<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Jodie, You've Changed Everything by killingg_eve</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109739">Jodie, You've Changed Everything</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingg_eve/pseuds/killingg_eve'>killingg_eve</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Killing Eve (TV 2018), Killing Eve (TV 2018) RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/F, Inspired by Killing Eve (TV 2018), RPF, Sandie, Sandra x Jodie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:42:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>22,596</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26109739</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingg_eve/pseuds/killingg_eve</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandra falls for Jodie throughout the IRL timeline of creating Killing Eve.</p><p>---<br/>Disclaimers: This story was written solely for fun. I tried to be extremely respectful of the subjects, given that they are real people. In that case, it is also the slowest of slow-burns. I still think you all will find it quite fun and enjoyable; I have had the *best* time writing it, and some of what's to come gave me chills.</p><p>Another thing that's important to mention is that there are some real-life facts that I had to disregard or change in order to write this. (Some are things I just *don't* know, and others are things that needed to be deliberately altered.) If you're a super-fan, I'm sure you'll pick up on these types of things. But rest assured, I did what I had to do to create this fictional world.<br/>---</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova, Jodie Comer/Sandra Oh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>339</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>391</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Killing Eve Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Who's On First</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello and welcome!<br/>I am jittery with nerves as I bring you my first posts of this fanfic. (In fact, this is my first fanfic, besides the little blurbs that I also posted to this account.)</p><p>Hopefully the lordtt will forgive my Grievous sins of writing a story that ships Sandra and Jodie . . . I promise that I don't take this lightly. I wrote with utmost respect and consideration.</p><p>I am thankful to behindthec (JustHereFortheLesbians on Tumblr) for writing her <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25437319/chapters/61693396">Sandie story</a> and confirming (via my anonymous tumblr messages) that I should write this. </p><p>Thank you for reading, and please enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sandra takes a sip of sparkling water. It is slightly too warm to be fully enjoyed. Though the studio space is dark, it is so small that the summer heat can’t be kept out—not for the 30+ people who are packed into this room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is our next one on her way?” she asks, looking up from her script.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes, she just called at noon and said she is being picked up from the airport. It should only be another forty minutes,” Phoebe replies. “She left almost as soon as we called her, it’s just a long flight.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That last one was good,” Sandra says with a slight twinkle in her eye, which can only be detected when looking past the glare of her glasses, “but I felt like she was tense in a way that I’d never be able to help her with. She was talented, and she spoke easily, but I don’t think she’s willing to get into the headspace of someone who would kill.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I agree,” Phoebe nods, “and I can’t picture her as our Parisian fashionista. She’s just a little bit short—maybe it’s not even that, I just don’t know if she could command the room in the way that our Villanelle would.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>A youthful girl walks in. It is difficult to make out her features because the doorway to outside is open, casting a blinding light. The wheels of her suitcase catch on every tile, creating a steady rhythm. Her combat boots squeak each time that she takes a step with her left foot.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She approaches Phoebe first.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi, I’m Jodie,” she says. Her voice is soft and her Liverpool accent brings a colorful roundness to her vowels. “Thanks so much for waitin’ up on me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Phoebe shakes her hand and offers her a corner to place her bags, then pulls out a chair at their round table.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie notices Sandra right away, just before reaching her chair.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh, ehm, hi, my name is Jodie Comer,” she says, flicking her straight, light-brown hair from her eye. “I heard that this was your show. Congratulations. It’s nice to meet you.” She extends her hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra smiles, trying to disguise the fact that she might mirror Jodie’s undertones of nervousness if she’s not careful. “The pleasure is mine,” she says, making direct eye contact and shaking her hand with a warm, firm grip.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She searches Jodie’s face to get a sense for how deep the shyness runs—was it just a hint, or will it come back when they start to read?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Okay,” Phoebe says, “I have been trying to get started as quickly as possible with these table reads. While I would normally like the actors to know each other with slightly more depth, the characters Eve,” (she gestures to Sandra) “and Villanelle are meeting for the first time. It can be best to just start reading and see how you two interact in the context of this kitchen scene. And it’s very dramatic, so Jodie, we ask that you just give it your best shot. Think Russian, think <em>mean</em>, think <em>fearless</em>, like you could break Eve in half at any time, if you wanted to.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie is nodding. She is absorbing and listening fully. She is also visibly rubbing the palms of her hands onto her denim shorts.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra looks at her again—more of a full picture view. She wonders if Jodie is tired from the flight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Please don’t hold back at all,” Sandra says to Jodie, solely for the purpose of testing their communication. “You can chase me around the set, and I won’t be offended or threatened.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie nods, still rubbing her palms, and Sandra looks at her eyes once more, noticing they’re hazel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Here is this for you,” Phoebe says, handing Jodie a script. “This scene starts on page 11 and continues to the end of the booklet.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Don't Run</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jodie tries her hand at the kitchen scene.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Welcome back, lovely people.</p>
<p>Thank you so much for your encouragement on chapter 1! Your comments made me smile (for real) as I got the notifications. I am beyond giddy, and so ready to take you on this journey.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jodie steps into the kitchen space and looks around at the props. There is a pie at the center of the kitchen table. There are also mugs, glasses, various fake knives, and real silverware—for the pie, she assumes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“To start, you’re going to chase me around and pin me to the floor,” Sandra says to Jodie. “In the real scene, I’m supposed to be pushed into a bathtub, but that wasn’t in our budget for today’s studio options.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie chuckles and raises an eyebrow. “I guess we’re not working off of Villanelle’s bank account,” she says in a Russian accent, trying to get herself in the right headspace for the scene.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Those who are huddled around the kitchen set laugh, flabbergasted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie’s eyes glisten—finally present, finally ready—and she shrugs smugly (still in character).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She crouches slightly, putting out her hand like a warning. “Don't run,” she says firmly to “Eve”.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie has been so present and funny during the 9-page read, even causing Sandra to laugh at her pouty fake cry (with real tears), as she begs Eve Polastri to save her from her assassin career. They have reread lines and played with the scene so much that half of the blueberry pie is gone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra takes a deep breath to get back into the serious and dark place that Eve is in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why Bill?” she says to Jodie, feeling Eve’s grief heavy in her chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“He was slowing you down,” Jodie responds, and puts her hand over Sandra’s and squeezes it—the very thing that will aggravate Eve and turn their situation violent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra scoffs and reaches for the prop knife. She doesn’t hold back. She wants to push as hard as she can, seeing if the young British girl could become a cold-blooded killer, not just a manipulative, charming girl.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Sandra stands up to physically threaten “Villanelle” with the knife, Jodie jumps to her feet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t do that,” she says firmly, restraining Sandra from picking up the knife.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie towers over her, now that she is standing. She leans in with absolute power and control over the dynamic. Sandra can feel “Eve” shriveling at the thought that this girl could kill her in one foul swoop.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra picks up the knife and Jodie pushes her against the wall behind them, pinning Sandra (and smacking Sandra’s head into the wall), then firmly holding the prop knife to Sandra’s chest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry!” Jodie gasps, returning to the softness of her accent. She lifts her arm off of Sandra so that she can recover.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it!” Sandra exclaims. “It’s totally fine, I’m fine. That was great!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie smiles at Phoebe—who is covering her mouth with both of her hands—and then smiles again at Sandra. After a quick moment and a jagged inhale, she narrows her eyes and points the knife at Sandra, again, ready to continue the confrontation.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I promise the chapters get longer!</p>
<p>Now that things are set up, please buckle in. :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Middle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The cast has dinner in Berlin.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you so much for your encouragement on the first few chapters. You all are lovely.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s a particularly chilly night in Berlin.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra, Jodie, Phoebe, Fiona, and Kim settle into their seats at the Grill Royal, a local restaurant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is their first time having everyone together for dinner. The past month has been scattered—half of the crew goes with Jodie to film her scenes, and half follows Sandra, David Haig, and Owen. They have only filmed up through episode 4.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The closest Sandra and Jodie have been on set was when Villanelle tries to get on the same train as Eve. Their characters did not interact, then. They chatted a little bit in between takes, though, and Sandra asked her if she had everything she needed and if her hotel room was nice. They are not scheduled to film the kitchen scene (for real) until the following week. For now, it is just warm food, sleep, a day off, and the trip back to London.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie wears a bomber jacket, black jeans, and converse. Her hair is still in the crown braid that she wore with her two-piece suit, on set, but her baby hairs are becoming more and more disheveled as the night draws on.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She is grinning from ear to ear while she speaks with Kim. Crossing her legs under the table and shaking her foot, she tells him about a funny thing that her brother did, showing Kim pictures and videos on her phone. Their conversation is so lively that everyone at the table begins to listen in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra sits next to Fiona, who is also laughing, lost to Jodie’s every word. Fiona, in particular, loves Jodie’s wide smile and always mirrored it back in her direction—totally unconscious of the fact that she is doing it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra observes the group, taking in the environment. She notices that even Phoebe is leaning on her elbow, engulfed in Jodie’s story.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra is tired—even a little homesick. She feels satisfied from her day of working, and so physically exhausted that she has a grounding sense of calm that radiates through her muscles. She takes a mental snapshot of this time at the lovely restaurant. She brushes her hand over the white tablecloth and takes in the sound of waiters and waitresses who are chatting with other guests.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Although Sandra is happy, she feels a sense of solitude while sitting in the group. She is not lonely; she isn’t isolated, per say. It’s just the fact that she feels truly in the <em>middle</em> of everyone. There is Jodie and her sneakers and her sparkly phone case, and there is Phoebe alongside her, also quite young, who wears a sophisticated, royal blue dress. And there is Fiona, who is so lovely, eloquent, quiet, and easy-going. But everything about Sandra—her age, her habits, her routine—everything about her makes her feel disparate because she is the only truly middle-aged person in their group.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>(Is it that? Is that what holds her back from indulging in the present moment?)</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looks at Jodie again, who is lost in laughter from the total apex of her joke—which has just landed. Everyone at the table busts at the seams with laughter. Everyone except her, she now realizes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you okay?” Fiona asks her, wiping joyful tears from her eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh—yeah, I’m fine. I guess I’m just a little sleepy. And ready to eat!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After recovering from laughter, Phoebe stands up and clinks a butter knife against her glass of white wine, quieting everyone from their individual laughing fits, and offering something communal.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I just want to make a toast, tonight,” Phoebe says. “I am so thrilled that we can finally have everyone together for dinner, after this past, grueling month of filming our first few episodes!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everyone cheers, especially Jodie, who has a glimmer in her eyes as she looks at Phoebe with her full attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you guys so much for your hard work,” Phoebe continues. “All of you have been extraordinary. And I just want to highlight the work we did today on the east side of town, following Jodie through the streets of Berlin.” She holds up her glass and looks at Jodie. “It’s not easy to be a fashionista, an athlete, and a psychopathic murderer at the same time, but you make it look like it is!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The restaurant is filled with the sound of the group’s warm applause. Jodie blushes and covers her heart with her hands. After it dies down, she stands up—somewhat unexpectedly—so she can add to Phoebe’s speech.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I just want to thank all of you for being so welcoming,” she says, looking around the table. “This has been one of the best experiences of my life. I have had remarkable moments with each and every one of you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie looks at Sandra, and Sandra’s eyes widen, not expecting Jodie to be focused on her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sandra,” she says, “You have made this whole process so seamless for me, and even though there are different directions Villanelle can go, there is only one Eve.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra smiles nervously, glancing at Fiona and Kim, who are now smiling at her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I would never do the crazy things that Villanelle does, unless it was for <em>your</em> Eve.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie smiles and raises her glass to Sandra, the whole table suddenly clapping for her.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I know the fancy restaurant I imagined is basic, but get this: it <a href="https://www.top10berlin.de/en/cat/eating-257/celebrity-restaurants-2552/grill-royal-3212#1">exists.</a> When I decided to go back and make the restaurant more 'real,' I found this perfect match on Google. Celebrities like to go here. Anyway! I was pretty shook by this info, even though (like I said) it's a Very Basic restaurant.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Find</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sandra has trouble sleeping in Berlin.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sandra can’t fall asleep, that night, regardless of how exhausted she is from a 12-hour day of acting. Her heels also ache from walking back to her hotel from the restaurant. Her ears still ring with the white noise from inside the restaurant: laughter, plates clinking, and people shuffling around.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra reaches for her phone. She deletes her Twitter notifications and wonders whether she should call her best friend, to see if that will help her become tired.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>It’s probably 6:00am in the States</em>, she realizes, placing her phone back on the bedside table.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She lays on her back and looks straight up. Passing cars create horizontal lines of light on the walls and ceiling of her hotel room. She watches them as they move from right to left.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Then, she thinks of Jodie and her sparkly phone case. She remembers everyone clapping for her at the table. And then she remembers what came before that: unexpected, kind words from Jodie.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“There is only one Eve,” </em>she replays in her mind. She lets out a single breath of laughter, smiling, adjusting her back on the bed and folding her hands over each other on top of the duvet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie was physically distant in the way that Villanelle was distant, but in just a few days, they would be filming the kitchen scene for real. They would be the closest they had been since the audition.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Maybe they could talk some more, and maybe Sandra should think of something nice to say back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Oh, and there’s that press thing on Wednesday</em>, she remembers. <em>Variety</em> was planning on interviewing Sandra and Jodie for a YouTube video.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra remembers the original ‘Jodie’ she met, who was shyly rubbing her sweaty palms onto her shorts. She realizes that everything must have changed while they were separated for the filming process. That bold, smiley girl at dinner. . . the one whom everyone’s eyes could not budge from. That was a completely different person. She wasn’t buzzing with nervousness at dinner; she was vibrating with lively, excited energy.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Maybe it’s just because we met at the audition, </em>Sandra wonders. <em>Maybe she was tired, nervous—maybe she just isn’t much of a talker in that environment. </em>Sandra realizes, then, that if Jodie is going to recoil again in the event of meeting new people, she needs to be ready to have Jodie’s back during the interview.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>I’ll talk first, I’ll answer any difficult questions</em>, she decides, suddenly fixated on the fact that Jodie is young and still somewhat new to the industry. (The show holds so much weight—two female leads, LGBTQ content, . . . she was prepared for the types of discussions ahead.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She turns onto her side, her eyes still tracing the moving light blocks as cars continue to pass. She lays there and continues this for a while, losing track of when she would eventually settle into the soft hum of sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter is named after a song by Shallou and Kasbo called <a href="https://soundcloud.com/shallou/find-w-kasbo-cody-lovaas">"Find."</a> (Yes, I always use SoundCloud because it's free.) The whole "up all night thinking of you" vibe gets me every time. I hope you guys get chills. This song plays in my head whenever I reread this chapter.</p>
<p>I'm rambling a lot! But guess what? I am officially 20 chapters into writing. So stay buckled in, Ladies. </p>
<p>Thanks for reading and commenting!! It means the whole world to me. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Let Them Eat Pie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jodie and Sandra finally film the kitchen scene.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It’s 8:00am on Monday.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra walks around the kitchen set, marveling at how lived-in it appears. She approaches the counter, where the sink is, and opens the cabinets above. She is surprised when they are actually filled with dishes—white plates, a large serving dish, and mismatched mugs. She picks up a mug that is white with blue dots. She rubs her thumb across the ridges that the dots create.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good morning!” comes a voice from behind, making Sandra jump.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry!” Sandra says, “I was totally lost in thought. This kitchen is—"</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s incredible,” Jodie responds. “It’s so much bigger than last time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Too bad it’s not a blueberry pie, today. Are you ready for the real thing?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure, I can handle a little shepherd’s pie at—” (she checks her phone) “—8:19am!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They both laugh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s nearly 4:00pm, now, and they are still making adjustments. It’s tricky, making sure Sandra’s hair and clothes are still dripping wet by the end of the scene.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The next time that Jodie holds the knife up to her, just as “Niko” is coming through the door, Sandra sees panic that is only visible in the pupils of Jodie’s eyes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” she says with full disregard for the take.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry,” Jodie says, hurrying over to her seat at the table. “I’ve had too much of that stuff.” She points to the shepherd’s pie. “I usually eat vegetarian, unless I’m doing a job. I’ve been trying my best to keep going for the past two hours, but it’s like a sharp pain,” she points to the middle of her stomach.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you want to go home?” Sandra asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie’s refusal is evident in her silence. She’s holding her head in one of her hands and tracing shapes on the wooden table with the other.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I can’t do that,” Jodie says, carefully. “This isn’t the only food I’m going to be having on this show. We should get this right so that you don’t have to dunk your head in water again, tomorrow.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The crew has largely backed off, by this point, and they are reviewing footage and adjusting the lights.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra pulls out the chair directly next to Jodie and sits down.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You have nothing to prove,” Sandra says. She searches Jodie’s eyes, which still hold some hazel against her white shirt. “You’ve done so much over these past few weeks. And you’re going to get tired. It’s already late in the day. You should go back and sleep off your stomach ache.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This scene is everything,” Jodie protests. “I wanted it to be perfect, like how I felt at my audition. I don’t want Phoebe to think that Villanelle won’t be able to eat anything.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra pictures the dinner in Berlin and how Phoebe leaned in towards the table while listening to Jodie speak. “You don’t have to worry,” she says gently. “I don’t think Phoebe could be any more impressed with you. And today—today was great. It was even better than last time—” she searches for the perfect word “—richer. We were <em>in it</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie accepts the reassurance in Sandra’s words and facial expression. “Thank you for being patient with me,” she says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie finds her coat and her bag, thanking everyone she passes on her way to the door.</p>
<p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I realized at the last minute that this chapter could have been longer. For that, I am sorry! I can't bring myself to edit the actual content of what I wrote so many days ago. (I think you guys are witnessing the process of how I got back into writing after taking ~8 years off.)</p>
<p>I'll continue uploading daily. Hopefully that helps sooth your Sandie-loving souls. 😇 I'm obsessed with this story and I can't wait for your reactions, as we go along this journey.</p>
<p>I'm on Twitter (killingg_eve) and Tumblr (killingg-eve) if you want to chat!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Speaking of Which</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sandra and Jodie have an interview event at a university.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Killing Eve</em> was renewed for a second season before they had even finished filming all eight episodes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The writers started to outline season 2, right away. In fact, it seemed as though many of them had pondered this already, and that they were <em>merely getting a chance to share</em> their visions of Eve, Villanelle, and Carolyn’s developments, (these visions which had kept them awake on many nights, buzzing with creativity).</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Variety</em> invited Sandra and Jodie for a full interview in an auditorium, scrapping their YouTube video idea, once they caught word of the news. The interview was to be hosted at a university where many theatre and tech theatre majors could attend.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That afternoon, Sandra is greeted by an exuberant Jodie, wearing a floral dress and glowing with highlighted cheekbones.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey!” Jodie says and embraces Sandra, immediately. (Sandra can hardly hug back, given that her jacket and bag are restricting her movement.) “You look so beautiful in red.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you,” Sandra says, automatically smoothing her coat out of the way to expose more of her vibrant, red dress. “You look—” she stutters and adjusts her grip on her coffee cup. “You look so lively . . . and pretty,” she says, thoughtfully.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie is hovering her thumb next to Sandra’s face, all of a sudden.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“May I?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra pauses, unaware, then quickly decides to trust. “Sure.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie dips her thumb to the side of Sandra’s lower lip, collecting a hint of red lipstick that the lid of her to-go cup had imprinted, there, at some point.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I tried to think of what types of questions they might ask me, today,” Jodie says. “I hope it’s not too . . . I hope I don’t say something—I just don’t want people to think that I—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t worry,” Sandra says, regaining Jodie’s eye contact. “You don’t have to save the world. I mean, she’s a psychopath! If anything gets too complicated, just speak from what you know about <em>her</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie nods slowly, taking a deep breath. She excuses herself to walk around the hallway for the last few minutes they have.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra ponders. <em>Was I right about that? Is she nervous again? </em>she asks herself, reflecting on the night she was trying to fall asleep in Berlin. She dismisses this trail of thoughts, concluding that it doesn’t matter. All that matters, today, is being alert and getting Jodie through their first press event. Because several will follow.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p> They speak as if they’re always together, even though the day they shot episode 5 made up the majority of their time together, to date.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did you guys feel that chemistry, right away? It’s electric!” the interviewer gushes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think so,” Sandra says, realizing the truth within the statement as she speaks. “I knew from our table read that she could take on that <em>power</em>.” Sandra gestures with her hands, leaning over towards Jodie, ever so slightly. “I knew that if I did something on the fly, she would be able to react in such a perfect . . . <em>Villanelle</em> way.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I agree with that—from the other side of it, I guess,” Jodie says.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra absorbs this response. She did not know it was mutual.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie continues. “I think we are just so good at reading each other. I feel like she really gets me, without needing words, and she’s right every time. I don’t think I’ve ever had that on a set, before.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra’s eyes meet Jodie’s, and she realizes that she knew Jodie was sick because of her eyes, alone. She wonders if this is what Jodie is referring to. Without even realizing it, she has started to look at Jodie quizzically.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do you think about the LGBTQ influence of this show?” asks the interviewer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think that it’s great that people will watch this with their families,” Jodie says with clarity. “I think everyone will fall in love with these characters, and maybe even with the fact that Villanelle loves women, and I think they will love the darkness and the tone of the show.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, that’s so true,” Sandra chimes in, sitting up straighter. “There’s a very specific, um, comedic atmosphere that just <em>cuts</em> beneath the violence and the psychology of the entire situation. It’s pure genius.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The interviewer is nodding, totally drawn in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra continues, “This show was created by a comedian, you know, Phoebe-Waller-Bridge. She’s just genius. I mean—she didn’t write the characters, those were written by Luke Jennings and he made these novellas that she got ahold of, somehow . . .”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra is rambling. Sandra is in full autopilot, holding the attention and holding the time.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>This is the type of question she might be scared to say too much about</em>, Sandra thinks to herself. She vividly pictures the version of Jodie who is rubbing the sweat from her palms onto her shorts, back in California. <em>Just keep this going; talk about how raw Villanelle is in the book—</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Sandra looks over to Jodie amidst her rambling, realizing that Jodie is cool and collected. In fact, she can see the slow rise and fall of her chest as Jodie takes even, relaxed breaths. She isn’t bothered.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You know, I’m sorry,” Sandra cuts off her long-winded speech about the novellas. “I can get lost in this stuff for hours but—Jodie, you should tell them about the introduction to Villanelle. The ice cream shop.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie smiles and nods. “Oh man,” she says into her microphone, “It’s so funny. There’s this unsuspecting little girl.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The softness and roundness of Jodie’s voice fills the space.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This time, unlike at the restaurant in Berlin, Sandra is lost in every word that Jodie speaks.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Hello, loves!</p>
<p>As you can tell, I manipulated reality, as promised in my disclaimers. Season 2 was renewed before the season aired, but not necessarily before they finished filming (if I remember correctly) (I'm new around here!). Just wanted to get this out of the way.</p>
<p>Also a small P.S., I chose "Variety" out of a hat. I just needed a name to insert. You guys can probably tell how this is based off of a real interview, just taken with some twists and extra insights, which I have made up.</p>
<p>Hope you enjoyed! Have a lovely rest of your weekend! :) See you tomorrow.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Lift Me From the Ground</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"But Sandra forces the universe to cooperate so she can have a minute alone with Jodie."</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“I’ve been trying to come down</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>On a high when you’re around</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Lift me from the ground.”</em>
</p>
<p>--San Holo</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra waits for their “green room” sort of space (a study room near the auditorium) to clear out. She knows their managers will head out, soon, leaving Jodie and Sandra to gather their things and trail behind.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Usually it’s a trend; usually they’re not alone, not on set together, not working together, usually not even constructing the same episode at the same time. But Sandra forces the universe to cooperate so she can have a minute alone with Jodie.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the last crew member stumbles out of the room and simultaneously picks up a phone call, Sandra sees out of the corner of her eye that Jodie is now reaching for her coat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey wait,” tumbles out of Sandra’s mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie takes a step away from the chair that her coat is hanging over, turning to face Sandra.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m so sorry if I was talking too much, out there. I wasn’t trying to drown you out. You deserve to speak on this show just as much as I do.” She pauses, briefly. “I was worried—kind of—well, not necessarily <em>worried</em>, it’s just that earlier, you seemed anxious about what types of questions might come up and I think my brain just automatically flagged that question as one that might be tricky. And then I realized, way later, that it wasn’t even an issue because you already answered it so . . .eloquently.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie has been listening with intent. “Oh, no, I know—no, you were fine.” She starts over. “I really liked what you were saying about how Villanelle was so serious in the novellas, and how Phoebe made her seem more immature and, ehm, funny.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh,” Sandra says, brushing off the entire part about Jodie being worried, thinking that part wasn’t received, or that maybe she missed the mark completely. “Thanks.” She pauses longer—almost too long. “The way you told them about the ice cream,” she laughs, “I feel like that’s gonna be the highlight of this entire gig.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you,” Jodie says, gleaming. She smiles, unconsciously pulling the sleeve of her dress over her watch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra observes her doing this, noticing the silver watch and all of the small rings that are on her other hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You have a little something,” Jodie says after a moment, taking a few steps towards Sandra.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie picks up a curl that is crossed over to the wrong side of Sandra’s head, across her hair’s middle part. She brings it down to the proper, left side of Sandra’s head. She drops the curl, and a few of her nails brush up against Sandra’s shoulder, in the process.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks,” Sandra simply says, and grabs her jacket, purse, and (now cold) latte.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra glances up again as Jodie is headed back over to the chair that holds her coat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She admires Jodie’s boots as they hit the carpeted floor with muffled “thud” sounds, and she realizes—for a small moment—that her shoulder feels warm where Jodie’s fingernails had tapped against it.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Good morning! Just dropping by to deliver your daily dose of Sandie Serotonin.</p>
<p><a href="https://soundcloud.com/sanholobeats/lmftg">San Holo, "Lift Me From the Ground"</a>... It's always fun to have a little jam session, when it comes to these chapters. There are several more to come! I think you guys will melt into the song choices, just as much as I do - or, I really hope so.</p>
<p>This song is optional, but I'm just warning you, some of the future ones are mandatory. &gt;:) </p>
<p>I hope you guys have a fantastic start to your week! &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. What Goes Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Our favorite costars film 1x08 . . . and Sandra surprises everyone, in the process.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>They don’t see each other for a few more weeks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This is how it goes: Jodie films in Europe while Sandra films in California—or vice versa. Then, they switch. This is the rhythm of the production of the show. There’s rarely a moment where both leads are in the same room, let alone the same country. And that’s how it stays, until Eve breaks into Villanelle’s apartment, at the very end. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra already smashed glass in the Paris apartment—it feels like that workday was ages ago. She enjoyed herself greatly, thinking of things in life that made her so angry that her face felt hot, then taking the dulled-down prop glass and hurling it to the floor. (Closing her eyes, briefly, then watching the shards scatter all the way under Villanelle’s furniture.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Today, she retrieves the same outfit: blue turtleneck, blue cardigan, dark gray pants, black shoes. She dresses and then fluffs her hair in the mirror, making it look as though that messy version of Eve has just been here, has just made a wreck of Villanelle’s flat.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The truth is, Sandra wishes she could do it again. This time, rather than searching for reasons to be angry, she houses heavy emotions that would make it easy to shatter glass, again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She isn’t <em>angry</em>. It isn’t anger. It’s more like exhaustion—heavy feelings of missing her house in California. Missing her husband and her friends. Being so entrenched in the dark energy of the show while their crew travels all around Europe and back to the UK again; a dizzying ride. It is the teacup ride that she signed on for, and in many ways, it has been pleasant. But it messes with a person—being away from home for so long and having virtually no separation between work and leisure. Not being able to retreat to one’s bedroom and lock the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra is one to look on the positive side, so she resolves to make the most of the day’s filming. It is the last day, the final five minutes of the season. She can find sanctuary in Villanelle’s home until she makes it back to the real thing.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra smells a familiar perfume: a smoldering concoction of floral and wood.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(“Eve,” who is within Sandra, is moved by the scent.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie appears on set, bruises and bloody marks painted onto her forehead and lip.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unlike the last few times, she doesn’t pounce on Sandra with a warm hello.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Instead she simply states, “Hi. I’m so sorry, but I think I need to wait over there,” (she points to the opposite side of the apartment), “for the sake of the scene. I’m sorry if that seems silly.” She pauses to search Sandra’s face. “I just want it to be like Villanelle is really seeing you again for the first time, after all of the crazy stuff that’s happened.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That makes sense,” Sandra replies, loosening her grip on the thoughts that are weighing her down. “I’ll see you when we start.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie nods and continues to assess Sandra’s expression. She is unsure and hesitates, as if asking for approval all over again. Finally, she turns and waits in Villanelle’s kitchenette, absorbed in her phone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra intended to think positively and drop the heavy weight of her emotions, but now, she sinks further. She can’t stop thinking about how much it would help to feel the California sun on her skin or visit her favorite coffee spot. Either of those things would provide physical warmth, which she can only imagine would be calming.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra holds up the prop gun, pointing it at Villanelle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Villanelle is unbothered, unsurprised to turn around and see her there. She lacks the vehemence a person would feel if their apartment has just been trashed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m gonna tell you something. Sit down,” Sandra says to her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After Jodie sits on the bench of the vanity, Sandra lowers the gun and comes over to the edge of the bed. She sinks into the bed with a huff, without breaking eye contact with Villanelle.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think about you all the time,” she recites, internally judging the fact that this is the oddest way to greet her costar, who had refused to catch up, earlier.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looks at Jodie while rambling on about Villanelle’s life—her eyes, her mouth, what she eats at work—and realizes the first sentence of the monologue was somewhat true. She realizes that oftentimes, she wants to call across countries and time zones to the crew that stays with Jodie—or even call Phoebe directly—to ask, “Is Jodie still doing okay?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(<em>I think about you all the time. Are you in the UK, or California, or back in Paris? Is your hotel room warm enough? Are you getting access to vegetarian food in all of the locations? Who do you talk to on your days off? What were you looking at on your phone? Do you have friends on set—are you and Kim getting along? Are you sleeping enough? Have you gone to any other interviews that made you shaky, and I wasn’t there to be a buffer? Have you run into fans on the sidewalk, and do they make you nervous? Are you liking the job, are you glad you came here to work with me? With us?</em>)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>These are the things that Sandra is thinking as she recites the script, keeping eye contact with Jodie. She knows this part by heart, since she learned it when Phoebe had first presented her with the details of the show.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At least, that’s what she thinks she’s saying.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before too long, she realizes that the questions she has asked Jodie were <em>half</em> content of the script and <em>half</em> of the questions directed towards Jodie, leading everyone on set to stare at her (some with their mouths hanging open)—they must have thought she was improvising, when really, it was obvious, now. She has just come undone.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I have been itching to share this chapter for weeks. I could honestly cry a little! The truth is, the turn of events was not pre-planned/outlined. This chapter flowed right through me with so much clarity. There was no editing... I had chills when I got to the end. </p>
<p>Thank you guys so much, once again, for your comments. I always read them straight away. They make me so happy!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Dance Partner</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Jodie picks up the pieces, after what just happened...</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Chapters 9 and 10 are being posted for Killing Eve Week's "Soft" theme.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you found this work because of Killing Eve Week, welcome! Thank you for reading.</p>
<p>I am so excited; I have been preparing to submit these parts of the story to Killing Eve Week for a while. (I even based my uploading schedule around it.)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p><em>Before too long, she realizes that the questions she has asked Jodie were </em>half<em> content of the script and </em>half<em> of the questions directed towards Jodie, leading everyone on set to stare at her (some with their mouths hanging open)—they must have thought she was improvising, when really, it was obvious, now. She has just come undone.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie is quick to swoop in, picking up all of the pieces. Filling the daunting silence as all eyes are on Sandra—who is inexplicably mortified.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie is speaking quietly, the soft tone of her voice and the roundness of her accent filling the air between her and Sandra. “Yes, the rooms I stay in always have a thermostat.” (She’s smiling at Sandra, gently. She looks back and forth at Sandra’s eyes, but she never looks down.) “Yes, I met these kids in London who were so sweet—oh, but they only recognized me from my last TV role. Kim—he and I are always laughing. He cracks me up!” Her eyes shift to the upper left, recalling a memory, and whatever it contains makes her laugh. She has to reach further than what is comfortable, but she does so, anyway, resting her hand on top of Sandra’s knee. “I really meant it when I said that this is the best time of my life.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra’s eyebrows are raised, her voice caught in her throat. She can’t believe this is reality. She said all of those things, not just for Jodie to hear, but in front of the entire crew.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sorry, what were the other questions?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh. Um—it’s not. I didn’t actually mean—” Sandra is lost to the moment. It takes everything for her not to cover her entire face with her hands and let the embarrassment overtake her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie scoots closer in, just in time. “Thanks for asking,” she starts, “I’m doing well—really. I’m thankful that you care.” She hesitates. “I’m sorry I didn’t say a proper ‘hello’ before we started.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, please, it’s not that at all,” Sandra responds. “I completely understand your thought process. You were right to do it that way!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a long pause, Sandra starts to laugh, letting all the anxiety roll off and evaporate. The way that Jodie starts giggling (notably at the same time) brings reassurance to her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The crew circle around the bed again, hoping to pick up where they left off before the sun repositions itself and creates more work for the lighting team.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra recites the monologue (without deviating from the script, this time), and by some miracle, nobody slips up and laughs at the new, brilliant “inside joke” of it all.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Chapter title taken from an <a href="https://www.latimes.com/entertainment/tv/la-et-st-killing-eve-jodie-comer-20190406-story.html">article</a> where Sandra calls Jodie her "dance partner."</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. One Oh Eight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>(Chapters 9 and 10 are being posted for Killing Eve Week's "Soft" theme.)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>The weight of the world</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Comes undone.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Light beams dance</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>On the insides of my eyelids.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I feel a shift,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>A gentle dip</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>In the mattress</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>As you lie next to me.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And when I hear soft scratches</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Of movement,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I turn to face you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Your eyes </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And the flecks of gold therein</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Already on mine.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Guiding a curl behind my ear</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And finding my jaw </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>On the way back down;</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Grazing, there.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Like soft thunder rumbling</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>In August,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I feel safe,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yet moved;</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Changed.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I am humbly sorry—</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Filled with regret—</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I cannot send the</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Shockwaves back.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Reunions Aren't Shaky</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>It's the start of season 2.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“If I take time to reset</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fly to location by jet</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Can I land in your arms?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Don’t give up on me yet</em>
  <em>.”</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>--Lonely Benson, “Location”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>The break is much-needed for all parties. As more episodes roll out, the cast and entire production team are blown away by a committed fanbase that seems to come out of thin air. Beautiful portraits of Villanelle and Eve flood every social media platform.</p><p> </p><p>Over the 6-week hiatus, it’s Jodie who feels the shift, the most. Gone were the days of being called “Chloe Gemmel” while at Tesco, smiling politely at the young girl(s) who said it, and continuing business as usual. America painted her as “Liverpool’s Sweetheart,” and every region BBC reaches echoed this new atmosphere of pure adoration for the lovely, talented Jodie Comer.</p><p> </p><p>She never expected it to be this much. She was excited, however, that the world could finally meet Villanelle and love her as much as she does.</p><p> </p><p>//</p><p> </p><p>The read-through of Season 2 takes place on a beautiful day. The writers, directors, and actors gather in a gloriously open classroom-type space on the outskirts of London. Everyone arrived between 10:00-10:15 (not too early in the day) and they were well-rested, knowing that they could be here until late at night, bellowing out the new dialogue and reacting to the series of events laid out on the page.</p><p> </p><p>Since the weather is turning to fall, again, Sandra settles for a heather-gray short-sleeved shirt, paired with loose jeans and black boots. (Gold jewelry; the works.)</p><p> </p><p>As she scans across pink and blue highlights on the pages before her, electricity begins to swirl in her gut. She’s been waiting for this day in every sense. She and Jodie would come back together again, after the way in which they ended season 1.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>—It was with a warm hug. She and Jodie grasped onto each other for dear life. Those surrounding them clapped and hollered in pure excitement of finishing filming, at last. Although they couldn’t stop smiling, they shed some tears on each other’s shoulders. Their clothes were soaked in fake blood from the sponge in Jodie’s sweater. They didn’t mind; what’s another red handprint on Sandra’s back? They were lost to the moment.—</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Sandra realizes that this read-through is going to be so fun and lighthearted, especially now that Jodie is settled in.</p><p> </p><p>She presses her fingertips into page 112, which contains the moment when Eve is taking the pills that Villanelle brought for her. As she reads through this moment, again, (hell, she knows it already) she pictures Jodie’s eyes—how “Villanelle” looked at “Eve” on the bed, brushing her fingertips over Sandra’s jaw. She feels a shiver down her back whenever she remembers this moment.</p><p> </p><p>“Hey!” comes Jodie’s voice from above and behind Sandra. And unlike Villanelle’s intoxicating perfume, it’s a soft vanilla scent.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, there are arms hugging Sandra from behind, and she is still sitting. A smile flashes against her face.</p><p> </p><p>“You’re kidding me, right?” Jodie says (and Sandra still hasn’t turned around), “We are perfect for each other.”</p><p> </p><p>At that statement, Sandra is confused and whips around. Everything becomes clear. Jodie matches her perfectly: gray shirt, gold jewelry, loose-fitting jeans, and black sneakers.</p><p> </p><p>Sandra bellows in laughter, looking up and down, assessing the length of the gold chain around Jodie’s neck . . . pulling at the side of her t-shirt to put it up against Jodie’s to determine how close the color is. (Sandra’s is a few shades darker.)</p><p> </p><p>It’s mere moments before Jodie asks the nearest person (in this case, Fiona) to take some pictures of them.</p><p> </p><p>Sandra and Jodie point to each other for one of the photos, and Sandra is realizing that this moment means everything.</p><p> </p><p><em>Perfect for each other</em> is what Sandra would hear, when viewing these photos in the future.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Lonely Benson strikes again. You guys are going to see more quotes from him; his lyrics really inspired me when I was trying to sink into the feelings of this fic. </p><p><a href="https://hips.hearstapps.com/hmg-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/images/ke-bts-108-7-1582749398.jpg?crop=1xw:1xh;center,top&amp;resize=980:*">This image</a> is just everything . . .</p><p>Cheers to manipulating the timeline again...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Wildflowers Grow (Between Us)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The Golden Globes.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Some of my commenters disappeared, this week . . . Please leave me comments, I'm low-key lonely LOL. :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“If I had a flower</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>for every time I thought</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>of you, I could walk</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>in my garden forever.”</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>--Alfred Lord Tennyson</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Golden Globes come up in the middle of shooting season 2, and what a relief—how many weeks has it been since she and Jodie were present together at the read-through? It’s exhausting for Sandra, the way in which they won’t be filming together until episode 5 (exactly as it was, last year).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie goes from <em>absent </em>to <em>present and beautiful</em>, dressed in black from head to toe. She is like a work of art. Her dress flairs towards the bottom and has gems scattered throughout, and her hair is swooped under itself in a way that’s classic. Mature.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>“A play on light and dark; good and evil,”</em> they had said.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The white of Sandra’s dress is gleaming. Her hair is also swept under, and the texture was shaped by her stylists so that it’s loose, unified waves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When she and Jodie take the red carpet, Sandra realizes that they must look ethereal, next to one another.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>On instinct, they hold hands for most of the photos.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra had wondered how Jodie would feel at this event, but upon taking her hand, it feels that she is doing fine. Maybe she had past experience with this; whatever the reasoning, she looks magnificent and calm and powerful to the crowd of photographers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Still, as if Sandra is still worried—still protective—she rubs her thumb across Jodie’s. It was an impulse; she didn’t mean to do this, but she cannot <em>undo</em> it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As cameras continue to flash, a now-worried Sandra is soothed when Jodie squeezes her hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An electric current moves through Sandra’s arm and blooms in her chest, then runs back down again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra squeezes, too, till both of them relax into a soft (safe) grip.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra wonders to the ends of the earth—did it zap Jodie, just the same? Is this why everyone praises their chemistry, because it’s as real as it comes?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before she can follow this trail of thoughts further, Jodie lets go of her hand at the request of a photographer that wants them to pose more dramatically. So they do; they play out light and dark (hell, and <em>dark and dark</em>) beautifully.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra’s palm is burning after being let go—staticky.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once the lenses of these cameras have kissed Jodie’s sharp jawline and melted at her cold gaze, Jodie stops playing evil and poses for more candid shots.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie turns to Sandra, and this is the first words they’ve spoken, all day. “I know I’ve told you that I didn’t really know much about you until we started working together.” Sandra nods and—how is it possible that Jodie’s face is softening so much, all of a sudden? Jodie continues, “Now, I strongly believe that I was meant to have you in my life.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Rather than piercing into Sandra, the words settle gently; naturally. Her face softens to reflect Jodie’s, and Sandra stares at her eyes for impossibly long. As Jodie turns back to the cameras and smiles, Sandra watches her for moments longer. The love on her face is captured from multiple angles.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Phoebe (in dazzling red) joins them for pictures.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra makes up for the fact that her hand is now empty but her heart is now full. She does this by reaching for Jodie at every chance. And it’s so obvious, and it’s too much, and she may regret it later—but now, upon basic instinct, she keeps grabbing ahold of Jodie’s wrist or taking her hands in her own whenever Phoebe jokes with them to make them laugh hard. (And Jodie so willingly lets Sandra have them.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra is gushing, and she continues to make jokes, as well, sinking into how Phoebe is <em>so funny</em>, and if she can just keep the jokes going, if she can keep grabbing at Jodie’s hands and praising “That’s so true!” “That was hilarious!” then maybe they can stay on this carpet forever.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Maybe they won’t have to go back to the empty space. When were they scheduled to film episode 5? Another month and a half? And that’s only if everything goes to plan on the projected schedule.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra doesn’t think about all of this, right now. She can’t afford to have a full heart and an empty one at the same time; she <em>chooses</em> the warmth.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I always wonder what Jodie was saying to Sandra, in that moment. It looked like she was telling a joke or something, but Sandra's face tells another story...<br/><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/proxy/Boy3hn0xvIRzAXQ70kcAlPP1UMq0aahH1ndOuIBgX-K-PMUo37n8ZhCB1mU3TD97Y3Xf5bgWdXJ8B3FPcEYzLGiBjmlDYtktzY9br_zuFQ0qzkyVhMVJXgyeKhCPFATUuvrF6mdOHZdagV3PyoBL2dnHzngwlfd1Fw8">Exhibit A.</a>  <a href="https://64.media.tumblr.com/c7a83f27d0d35de4661b26f70fe58fb9/tumblr_pl9a1g8IHV1s5jz46o1_500.png">Exhibit B.</a></p>
<p>Chapter title taken from the Lonely Benson song called "Top of the Gulf." (This song is probably the least relevant of all, but damn, it makes a beautiful title.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Some Wins Have Losses</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>This one takes place after the Golden Globes awards show has ended.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There's a Twitter user @Fleabaged who helped me understand why Sandra had two different dresses for the same event (the timeline was really confusing to figure out, as a new fan). I'm really thankful to them, 'cause Google was getting me absolutely nowhere.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Babe, I’m afraid of</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t really know what</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But I’m losing my shit.”</em>
</p>
<p>--Lonely Benson, “Losing It”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>That night, the cast of Killing Eve leaves on a high. Sandra won multiple awards. Not only did she win, but she made history three times in the process of hosting and winning. She also brought her parents, whom she thanked and then expressed love for in Korean.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was too distracted with hosting the event to think about all of the times she had reached for Jodie’s hands, earlier, but the warmth of it stayed with her (and grounded her) throughout the entire process of putting on the event.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra walks her parents up to their floor of the nearby hotel that many celebrities (and their loved ones) are staying in. After smiling with them more and hugging them several more times, she goes into their room to grab her suitcases. (Since Sandra’s parents spent two nights in the hotel and Sandra only needed to stay there for one night, Sandra kept her belongings in her parents’ room before rushing off to her stylists to get ready for the red carpet. The plan was simple: she would move her suitcases up to her room, just before bed.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She takes the elevator to her floor. She locates room 809 and swipes her key card, which is programmed to work for both of the rooms.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Red.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She swipes it again, thinking nothing of it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Red.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Wrong room!” bellows a man’s voice from inside. (The voice is equally polite and irritated, since it’s well past 1:00am.) (If only he knew that she was the one standing outside…)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She takes her suitcases back to the elevator and returns to the first floor, approaching the front desk quickly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi,” she says to the woman at the desk. “I reserved a single room for tonight—I was told it’s number 809, but someone else is in there.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After politely listening, the woman swiftly types names and numbers into her computer, aiming to sort things out.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m so deeply sorry, ma’am,” the woman says. “That room is housing another party. There must have been a mix-up when you initially called. Unfortunately, with the Golden Globes, all of our rooms are booked. I would be more than happy to call all of the nearby hotels on your behalf and find you a room” (not only does everyone recognize Sandra Oh, but her dress would’ve been another giveaway that she is an important person) “and our company will pay for it, as well.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Sandra is about to respond with gratitude and acceptance of the offer (regardless of how dead-tired she is from all of the adrenaline the day has offered), she hears a familiar laugh from a group that is coming into the lobby from outside.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie is among this group of girls. She changed into casual clothes, at some point, and her hair is down (although a bit bumpy from the way it was folded under, earlier).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She’s a drunk Scouser, at this point, and all of her words slur together as she separates from her group and approaches Sandra.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s going on, then?” she asks Sandra, placing her hand on Sandra’s arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hi, love,” (Sandra can’t help but smile at this version of Jodie. She’s jolly, but still soft.) “I am locked out of my hotel room—er—I don’t technically <em>have</em> a room in this hotel, anymore.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Come up, then!” Jodie says, slurred to all get-out and accentuating parts of the words that hardly even make sense. “You can sleep up in my bed and I’ll crash on the floor.” Jodie’s eyes are wide; she doesn’t want Sandra to be inconvenienced any longer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s so sweet—you are so kind,” she says to drunk Jodie. “I’ll be alright, hun, they’ll find me somewhere to go. You shouldn’t sleep on the floor!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s nothing,” Jodie says, persistent. “It really doesn’t bother me. This is your night! You need to go to bed!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Although it’s Jodie who would probably (really) benefit from going to bed, Sandra thinks about it for a moment. Before long, she remembers that she snores when she turns onto her back in the middle of the night . . . Oh, and she needs to put icy hot on a muscle that she pulled, a couple of days ago. (The smell would surely drive Jodie mad.) She has so many bottles of vitamins. She sleeps with an eye mask on . . . No way! It wouldn’t work. Sandra never worried about these things with her husband or her friends, but when faced with young Jodie, it was horrific for her to even think about. She recoils at this realization.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Ma’am,” the desk woman interrupts (and thank <em>god</em>). “The Hilton down the street has a room for you. It’s a double. We will pay for it—would that be alright?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes! Thank you so much!” Sandra says, turning her head around but not removing herself from how Jodie’s hand is still (somehow) on her arm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra turns back to Jodie. “You should sleep in the bed you paid for, hun. Thank you so much for offering. You are the cutest and the sweetest.” (Drunk Jodie really is precious.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie hugs her tightly. “Congratulations on everything, tonight!” This is all she can muster.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Aww, thank you so much!” she says, hugging back equally tight. “Get some sleep tonight, Jode.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thanks queeeeen,” is, once again, all she can come up with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra feels featherlight as she lays down. She is elated with the win, how good it felt to host, how good it felt for the hosting to be <em>over </em>and <em>successful</em>. And her parents rarely look at her in the way they did, today, so she holds onto that image. She feels so tired and so proud, and it’s one of those full-circle moments where she wishes she could go back in time to her 20-year-old self and leave a clue that everything—<em>everything</em> was going to be so much more wonderful than she could ever imagine.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When she has finished mentally categorizing her favorite moments of the day, she gets up to turn the lights off, hoping to fall asleep, soon. It is now 2:14am.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the darkness of the room, she gets lost in thought about <em>Killing Eve</em>. She thinks about how much she loves Jodie for all of the light in her smile and in her heart. She is truly magnetic.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra brushes her hand over the soft duvet that the Hilton provided for her, and remembers that she and Jodie were holding hands and—<em>Oh my gosh, that feels like it was forever ago!</em> The day was so long that by the time she thanked everyone for attending or watching the Golden Globes, she had completely forgotten that the red carpet happened. She smiles at the thought of it, of how Jodie had reciprocated the brushing of her thumb with a generous squeeze.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Sandra closes her eyes to try to fall asleep, she remembers the <em>grabbing</em>. She had repeatedly taken Jodie’s hands captive, and Jodie <em>let her</em>. But, oh god, that was in front of everyone. Not just Phoebe and the photographers, but now it is immortalized in photos and videos, which are all online, by now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>At that realization, she opens her eyes <em>wide</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>Oh my god. I really did all of that. What if someone noticed—well, didn’t </em>everyone<em> notice? What do I do, will everyone just assume that this was all friendly . . . I mean, we act as love interests on the show, so surely they won’t be surprised to see us like that! It’s nothing. It’s truly nothing! Girls are like this, girls are affectionate. Jodie didn’t think anything of it, she just kept her hand held out for me and—</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>
  <em>Jodie . . . Didn’t think anything. Of it.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The realization feels like a knife.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She doesn’t mean to jump to conclusions, but how can she stop?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Why did she let me if . . .</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She sinks further and further into the worry at the heart of it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>She definitely doesn’t see me like that, so why would she let me hang onto her hands for such a long time? Wouldn’t she have pulled them back?</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The possibility that Jodie didn’t even feel the electricity when she and Sandra squeezed each other’s hands is what sinks all the way down into her gut, making her start to feel ill.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She starts to apologize in her mind to the ghost of Jodie, the version that is wearing the black dress. <em>I knew that I was starting to think about you more and more, but I didn’t realize that I felt like . . . this. </em>(She physically covers her face, without realizing.) <em>I didn’t think that I liked . . . <strong>you </strong>. . . I thought I just liked when we were—</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>She stops herself from thinking any more about it. This was such a special day for her, from beginning to end. And whether or not Jodie felt that something was stirring between them, she had let Sandra hold onto her hands, and she spoke words of such high praise and congratulated her multiple times—not to mention <em>all of it</em>, all of the moments that started to weave themselves together in Sandra’s memory, ever since <em>Killing Eve</em> first started.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She thought of all of the things she knew for certain, like how nicely her jokes landed when she was hosting the Globes, and let those be the images that lulled her to sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>(I'm really rambling here:)<br/>You guys, I am about 10 chapters ahead of what I post . . . I didn't realize until this morning that it makes zero sense that she would be given a key card, if the hotel messed up her reservation. I tried to doctor it. What do you guys think?? (Lmao!) I'm so in love with the concept of this chapter that I decided to keep it intact.</p>
<p>Alternative lyrics I considered for the chapter:</p>
<p>"I will judge myself<br/>Guilty of loving you too much<br/>I will smother you just to feel your touch."<br/>(From the song "Outside" by TENDER)</p>
<p>P.S. I really projected myself onto Sandra, here, with the doubts and insecurities. Oof.</p>
<p>P.P.S. This concept of having a bunch of hotels in that area is completely fictional/pulled out of thin air. Thank you. :)</p>
<p>P.P.P.S. I think I've heard Sandra call her "Jo" and "Jode," right? Both are cute 🥺</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Most Important Meal</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Everyone shares a meal again (breakfast, the day after the Golden Globes).</p><p>----</p><p>I wrote the F-word like 3 times in this chapter; not sure if that type of thing bothers anyone? Just a small warning, in case it does.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Important Disclaimer:</p><p>I want to mention how there are a couple of references to Jodie's boyfriend or Sandra's husband, throughout this fiction. (One of which was already posted.) These references are teeny tiny and I only use them to further the plot. I don't say anything specific about them (I have actually avoided googling them, just so I'm certain that I don't know anything about these IRL people). I also don't break up these relationships at any point; they merely evaporate (basically) down the line. I just wanted to address this because it's an important matter. You will see just how small these references are, but please feel free to share your thoughts with me, if anything bothers you.</p><p>Okay, thanks!</p><p>Enjoy today's chapter, my friends.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“I should hit the road</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Let someone else be</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Close to you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And more like you</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Less like me.”</em>
</p><p>--Lonely Benson, “Peculiar Paradise”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>When morning comes, Sandra peels herself out of bed to get ready for breakfast. This is the first time that everyone has had a meal together since Berlin (not counting the Globes, the night before, which Sandra did not participate in because she was hosting the show).</p><p> </p><p>She pulls together all of her luggage so that she will be ready to leave the hotel, afterwards. She picks out her outfit: a long dress that is speckled with blue and white.</p><p> </p><p>She starts to pull water from the sink and carefully draw it over her curls to refresh them. As she does this, she starts to think about something unrelated to rushing out the door. It’s the heaviness from last night that creeps back in, landing upon her heart like a paperweight.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t allow herself to become so entrenched in the guilt and sadness that she felt, the night before. (She was exhausted, anyway, when she went through all of that.) This is a new morning; a potential for feeling softer and lighter.</p><p> </p><p>She shuts the water off and spritzes some hairspray on some of the prominent curls. Her stomach growls, and she realizes her last meal must have been forever ago. She is happy to be going to breakfast with everyone, even if she isn’t sure how to interact with Jodie, now.</p><p> </p><p>//</p><p> </p><p>LA is somewhat hot, today, but the cast can’t get enough of the warmth, after traveling around the frigid locations in Europe.</p><p> </p><p>At breakfast, many cast and crew members gather around a large table.</p><p> </p><p>Sandra sits by Kim, and thank god, Jodie is halfway down the table, on the other side.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie isn’t as lively, today, given that she is hungover. She still gets absorbed in conversation with Phoebe, and it sounds as though they are discussing the fun night of drinking.</p><p> </p><p>Sandra orders an omelet and gratefully digs into it, listening to Kim and Fiona’s discussion of politics (which Sandra only partially keeps up with, since American politics are, of course, the most relevant to her).</p><p> </p><p>As Fiona discusses political officials that Sandra has not heard of before, Sandra thinks about what The Twelve would do with them . . . how maybe Villanelle would show up to their events dressed as a maid or a postwoman or a Barcelonan piano tuner with a sharpened tuning fork as her weapon!—She starts to laugh at the very image of that.</p><p> </p><p>This iconic visual of Sandra Oh eating an omelet and laughing to herself gets a few people’s attention, especially Kim’s and Fiona’s.</p><p> </p><p>“Sandra,” Fiona says, “we have hardly heard from you, after your big win, last night. How are you doing? And what, on god’s green earth, is funny? Please, let us in.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know if this makes any sense,” she says to Kim and Fiona, still chuckling, “I just imagined if Villanelle stabbed someone with a tuning fork . . . you know, like for pianos?”</p><p> </p><p>Jodie looks over when she hears ‘Villanelle.’ She laughs at Sandra’s remark and has to yell over a few people, “Oh my god! She would be acting like she <em>knows shit</em> about music! That’s bloody genius.”</p><p> </p><p>Sandra notices the way that the heavy sunlight coming through the windows bring out more gold and more hazel in Jodie’s eyes than usual, like they are shining. That shimmer makes her heart leap.</p><p> </p><p>But she’s quick to catch it. Her smile fades, slightly, and she turns back to her omelet; she still lets her own laughter decrescendo, but she resolves to go back to listening. She can still talk with Kim and Fiona, but it <em>has</em> to be about other things. Not Villanelle. Not anything that would catch the attention of the young woman.</p><p> </p><p>As she continues to eat and listen to Kim and Fiona’s new discussion (interesting foods they’ve tried while traveling to many different places), she weaves through the white noise of their boisterous table to catch something Jodie says to Phoebe.</p><p> </p><p>“. . . He really likes football, actually. Yeah! Richarlison. Yeah, he’s our favorite.”</p><p> </p><p>This is something that had never crossed Sandra’s mind. <em>Does she have a boyfriend at home? Well—oh my god, seriously?! She’s Jodie F*cking</em><em> Comer, of course she has a sweet boyfriend at home. Did you seriously think she wouldn’t . . .?—I have had enough! I’m seriously fucking losing it. Just stop thinking about it!</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>In between the harsh yelling going on in her thoughts and the way that the boulder over her heart had just sunk further into her, making her breathing shallower, she finishes her food.</p><p> </p><p>Thankfully, everyone is pretty much done eating. Everyone’s small groups of side conversations continue as people start to leave the restaurant in pairs and trios, checking their watches and phones and realizing that they need to check out of their hotels. Phoebe eventually sets down $250 in cash and grabs her bag, leaving not with Jodie, but with Fiona, since they figured out that they had actually stayed in the same hotel.</p><p> </p><p>Somehow, Sandra is left with Jodie in an abrupt way. How had everyone left so quickly?</p><p> </p><p>After checking in on her text messages, briefly, Jodie looks up to see that Sandra is still there. She grabs her water glass and moves over a few seats so that she is across from Sandra.</p><p> </p><p>“Are you okay?” Jodie asks.</p><p> </p><p>Sandra thinks about how her face is impossibly sweet, how her eyes still have halos in them from the sun. She brushes this off, though, feeling suddenly guilty for everything.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m fine,” she says with a half-smile, leaning into the table with her hands crossed, under it. “Why did—what—why are you worried?” she ungracefully asks.</p><p> </p><p>“It seemed like you got quiet,” Jodie says. (It’s clear that she’s questioning herself, now.) “I saw . . . your face . . . I thought I saw—”</p><p> </p><p>Jodie had read her expression, earlier. And nobody else had.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry, didn’t mean to pry,” Jodie apologizes. Then she lights up. “How was the Hilton?”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh my gosh,” Sandra starts laughing, “you remember that? You were plastered! How on earth do you remember our conversation?”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know! It’s so weird, my dad is the same way. We don’t really forget things when we drink, but we still act a whole bloody mess!”</p><p> </p><p>“That’s incredible!” Sandra says, forgetting everything and sinking into Jodie’s charm.</p><p> </p><p>“I am so sorry if I seemed whiny or messy, last night,” Jodie says, nervously adjusting one of the rings on her right hand.</p><p> </p><p>“You were fine—” Sandra cuts herself off at the realization that she needs to thank Sober Jodie. “Thank you so much for offering for me to share your room! That was so generous. It was incredibly kind.”</p><p> </p><p>“Aww, it’s not a big deal!” Jodie says. She has a wide smile. She can’t think of anything else to say on the matter.</p><p> </p><p>“Should I get us an Uber back to our hotels?” Sandra offers.</p><p> </p><p>“Oh, I actually have everything . . .” Jodie pulls a small suitcase out from under the table, and Sandra realizes that’s why she didn’t leave with anyone else from their group.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie brings her stuff over to Sandra’s side of the table and gives her an inviting hug.</p><p> </p><p>“Congratulations, again!” Jodie says. “You are truly incredible and you deserve all of it—and more.”</p><p> </p><p>Sandra smells the lavender from Jodie’s shampoo and hugs her closer when the warm words reach her. She says nothing back except “Thank you,” because that is all that comes to mind.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Thank you for (somehow) realizing that something is on my mind. Thank you for being so sweet towards me, even though you have a boyfriend, back home. Thank you for the softness of your hands, yesterday—and oh, I was just borrowing them . . . I hope that’s okay.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The pair leaves the restaurant and waits (an unusually short amount of time) for their separate cars.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie climbs into a Lexus moments before Sandra’s car would arrive, and a Tesla driver passes both of them, yelling at Jodie.</p><p> </p><p>“Nice rack!” says the driver.</p><p> </p><p>“HEY, SHUT THE <em>FUCK</em> UP!” Sandra bellows back, while his window is still down.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie looks over at Sandra—at first stunned, then forming a sly smile.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow, you’re quick! You’ve really got it in you!” Jodie says, and gives her a nod.</p><p> </p><p>Sandra takes that as a “thank you” and laughs, relaxing her shoulders from the stiffened position she had been in when she <em>screamed</em> at the driver.</p><p> </p><p>Sandra can’t believe that she reacted that quickly and said those particular words, but she is ready to do it again, should a situation arise.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>One more announcement: </p><p>I finished writing, last night. There are 23 chapters in this story.</p><p>I am so sad that I finished writing, but I'm excited to share the second half with you! </p><p>Thank you all so much for your lovely comments and for being on this journey with me. &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Half Empty, Half Full</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Filming the second kitchen scene (2x05). Part of this chapter is based on the <a href="https://saudiam.tumblr.com/post/623553851357888512/why-do-they-rob-us-of-these-moments">leaked photos</a> that surfaced over this summer, where fans suspect that Eve and Villanelle had a scene that took place outside.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Even if it makes me blind,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I just wanna see the light.”</em>
</p>
<p>--San Holo, “Light”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra missed Jodie over the course of laying down the groundwork for more episodes. Season 2 holds a unique advantage, though, in terms of Eve and Villanelle’s proximity to one another. Episodes 5-8 have the most overlap to date, allowing them another kitchen scene and the entire subplot that involves Aaron Peel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>During the time apart, Sandra thoughtfully constructed a course of action. She resolved to continue giving Jodie kindness, but only so much as to reciprocate whatever Jodie offered. It would be easiest, she decided, to become a mirror. If Jodie offered a kind word, she would do the same. If Jodie would ever take Sandra’s hand, again, Sandra would graciously allow it. But she would never be the instigator; she couldn’t bear the thought of being the cause of someone’s discomfort.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two never fail to make magic.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>During the kitchen scene, Sandra finds it easy to be everything she needs to be and more: solemn, afraid, closed off, and demanding, to name a few. Jodie is powerful, moody, stern, accusatory—and she melts into softness towards Eve for a subtle moment, like a flash.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When Sandra rests her hand on Jodie’s cheek and begs the question, “Do you think about it?” she doesn’t allow herself to perceive of the warmth that pools at her fingertips. She doesn’t allow herself to ponder how easily Jodie leans into her hand—not overtly, just with the slightest inward tension. And, most importantly, Sandra stares at the voided parts of Jodie’s eyes (an old trick), rather than diving into her pupils and finding out what’s there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They are so seamless together that Sandra’s caution does not take away from the filming process. In fact, it enhances the scene; it stirs up an uneasy energy that underlies every interaction, which is perceivable to the audience, piling onto the feeling of imminent danger.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And that’s why it’s so goddamn good—Sandra is walking a tightrope that nobody knows about.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is a scene (which has since been deleted) where Eve and Villanelle have a conversation outside of Eve’s house, just before reaching the car that they leave in.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the scene, Eve questions Villanelle’s integrity and Villanelle, who is light on her feet, makes it clear that her loyalty is only towards Eve.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p>“I hope the office is nice. You know, good food and all of that,” Villanelle says, lifting Eve’s hand up in the air and then twirling, underneath.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s only the higher-ups that get the good stuff,” Eve says, aggressively taking her hand back and tucking it into her jacket pocket. “Let’s get to that level and find out.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Villanelle is unamused. “I’m only doing this because you asked me to. And that’s all I can offer MI6. You understand?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What, you’re just going to go back to your other job? You’re going to help us <em>save</em> some people, then go back to <em>killing</em> other people?” Eve asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I have commitments, Eve. You know that.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re loyal to them,” Eve scoffs. “What do you even know about being trustworthy. What do you even know about being loyal?” She bellows so loudly that it echoes off of the houses in the quiet suburb and comes back to her own ears with a clap.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a few minutes, Sandra, Jodie and the crew are brought to a halt. Although they found a quiet neighborhood to shoot in, they still had to stop and move aside for passing cars, sometimes.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>During this break, Sandra can see (even in the blackness) that Jodie’s eyes are glossed over as she paces around the sidewalk and watches the passing cars. It’s clear that she is in her head, while also trying to make it undetectable to her coworkers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry—did—Did I yell too loudly?” Sandra asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie laughs and a single tear escapes. “No! Although, I wonder if the audio is going to peak when they play that one back.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s going on? Do you want to stop?—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“—You improv-ed that, right? That thing about loyalty?” Jodie’s eyes are so glossy, even in the dark.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra hesitates, then says, “I did, yes.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Just the sheer coincidence of it all,” Jodie says, laughing slightly and carefully drawing tears away from her mascara.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Oh! Did . . . did someone—” Sandra realizes that somehow, this resonated with Jodie. She is certain, now, that the volume at which she yelled did not help.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was fighting with my boyfriend, a few days ago. He called me and during the fight, he said . . . It wasn’t <em>that</em>, exactly, it was . . . it was more like . . .” Jodie cuts herself off, casting her eyes down. “The details don’t matter.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra does not push her any further; it’s true that the specifics of the fight are not important for her to know. She knows all too well what it’s like to argue with someone, be far away from them, and (somehow) be presented with dialogue that is all too real.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra declares that this is an exception to her rules. As any friend would do, she puts her hand on Jodie’s shoulder and, unlike when they filmed indoors, finds the true centers of Jodie’s eyes. She searches there for a few moments, then expresses, “He is so lucky to have you. Does he know that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie doesn’t answer this; she only lets more tears form in her water lines and maintains eye contact with Sandra, allowing nonverbal communication to pass through them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This isn’t Villanelle, so Sandra cannot bring herself to wipe any tears away. She does, however, hug Jodie when she can no longer stand to be a mere observer of her sadness.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra searches her thoughts for something that is acceptable to say aloud—something that is not too much, even though she feels many things. She lands on this and speaks into Jodie’s ear at half-volume: “You’re wonderful. You deserve the world.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>It is this delicate balance (not too little, not too much) that carries Sandra through several more scenes together.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I made up a fake argument; that's why there are zero details, of course. I had to make her a little sad for the plot. Sorry!</p>
<p>Thank you guys for reading! I hope you have a good start to the week.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Two Earths (Part 1)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Sandra and Jodie find themselves in the same location, finally having overlap in the filming of season 2. It doesn't go as smoothly as Sandra hoped.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Put me down for another round.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Only if you let me, only if you let me.”</em>
</p>
<p>--Lonely Benson, “Can’t Put You Down”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>For weeks, Sandra stifles her own thoughts, accidentally looping around to everything—the Golden Globes, breakfast, that evening in the suburbs—and back again. She scolds herself whenever she closes her own eyes and sees Jodie’s. (And it happens often: Sandra remembers the times that she had clearly known when Jodie was sick, sad, or nervous. Deep down, she knows that she’s the first—sometimes the only—one to sense these things.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She has been standing firm in her guidelines for herself, only hugging when Jodie hugs, only speaking kind words when kind words are spoken to her. It would be “easy living,” if not for the push and pull of some type of magnetic force.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That is, something draws their attention to each other, and it happens often. Sandra could be focused on anything, but her eyes flick to meet Jodie’s, all the time, before Sandra is even conscious of Jodie’s presence. It’s relentless. Jodie is the only one who has ever been a distraction to Sandra’s refined professionalism. Several times, she has been delivering a line at the same time as Jodie passes. She can usually save it, too, by acknowledging Jodie from within Eve’s character and swiftly pivoting back. Her teammates are none the wiser.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Film and TV scenes are often filmed out of order, and this is one of those such times.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>While the outside of the hotel in season 2 is a real destination in Amsterdam, the rooms inside are on a set that was constructed in the UK.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Since Sandra and Jodie have so many shared scenes as season 2 comes to a head, everyone stays in the UK to film a handful of Eve and Villanelle’s separate scenes. (This way, when there is overlap, everyone is available.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie has spent the last few days on a specific passage. In this episode, Villanelle commits a murder that is meant to lure Eve to the scene of the crime. She awaits Eve’s arrival, and when Jess shows up instead, Villanelle breaks down: slowly, and then all at once.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There are two things that Jodie does within the blue hotel room. One is to appear excruciatingly bored after a kill. The other is to wake up with a hangover and cry in anguish in the bathroom mirror, upon remembering (in the morning) that Eve has not come to investigate the crime scene.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie splays herself across the bed of the hotel set. Her hair is disheveled, makeup is strewn across her temples, and her mouth hangs over carefully-curated, carefully-placed vomit stains.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She sits up on the bed—slowly, as though her whole body is resisting it. She imagines that her head is pounding. She must feel dizzy. Her muscles would ache.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She looks over to the floor where Kim (Konstantin) is resting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Villanelle reacts to this; <em>Why is he here? What happened last night?</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>As Jodie stands up, she makes eye contact with Sandra, who is close to a camera.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie breaks character at the sight of Sandra.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra passes through the studio. She has some time before she will film a scene with her “MI6” team. With coffee in hand, she buzzes down the hallways, till she sees bright lights blaring down on blue walls.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s interesting to stumble upon the filming process. Really, it’s like a crowd of people who form a half-circle on the outskirts of the set. It’s difficult to see through them; sometimes they can’t even fit as many crew members as would be sufficient. They narrow in on the actors and it’s both a blessing and a curse; the downside is being watched by so many eyes, but the bright side is that they form a barrier between the actors and the outside world, when necessary. Sometimes, it’s like a shield.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra steps closer to the room. She isn’t sure what part they’re at.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra closes in upon realizing that she’s never had this opportunity before. Although she has had her scenes with Jodie, she has never <em>witnessed</em> Jodie. And believing it could be nothing short of magical to see her talent in person, she slowly makes her way closer, till she can see a sliver of her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She hears the huffing and puffing as Jodie acts grossly hungover, and Sandra uses her height to her advantage when she looks under the arm of a tall cameraman.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>The heartbreak. The exhaustion. The weak muscles. It is all there; Jodie looks so worn down. And god, how does she make it so effortless? It’s like her whole face has changed. </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra’s observations come to a halt as Jodie stands up and suddenly looks at her with wide eyes.</p>
<p>--</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sandra, you can’t be here,” Jodie says with more impatience in her words than anyone in the cast or crew has ever heard from her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra is frozen. The feeling is as if <em>The Girl with the Pearl Earring</em> has just openly scoffed at her, telling her to look away from the canvas.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie, although still reeling from the embarrassment that she just broke character in a jolt, speaks slightly calmer. “I’m supposed to be missing Eve. I can’t do that if <em>you</em> are here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra comes back to herself. She whips around takes herself away from the set as quickly as her legs will carry her, her coffee now sloshing dangerously close to the rim of its cup.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Once away, she finds a vacant, small office and closes the door.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The sense of surprise mostly comes from the fact that she just reacted <em>like that</em>. She doesn’t understand why she hurried away from that space or why Jodie’s words pierced right through the middle of her and caused her to freeze.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She checks the time on her phone and realizes her break is ending, to top it off.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She isn’t one to hide, so she lets out a brisk sigh and carries herself out of the office, making her way to the “MI6 office” set.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Things are really picking up, now, huh?</p>
<p>This part of the story is special to me. When I imagined this, I was buzzing with energy all day. That's when I sent a message to "behindthec" and told her I had so many ideas for this fic, and she told me I needed to start writing, straight away, or it would never be as good as it was meant to be.</p>
<p>Still mentally recovering from the fact that I'm done writing. I don't know what to do with myself, now! If you have any suggestions, please let me know.</p>
<p>(Thank you all for your lovely comments! I am trying to catch up on responses, today.)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Two Earths (Part 2)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The angst of having been scolded by [imaginary] Jodie Comer.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Rinsing every emotion</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And I don’t know why I</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Feel my breath is frozen.”</em>
</p>
<p>--Reeliv, “Gotta Fall Sometime”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s easy. The universe has given Sandra the perfect scene, as she and Edward (Hugo) are filming a passage about “The Ghost.” Eve misses Villanelle and becomes wound up by her coworkers’ expectations that she will detach from her. This allows Sandra to act with so much angst, being irritable and distracted—just as Sandra is.</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>[Eve looks at the bulletin board while sitting in an office chair. She clicks her pen, glancing around at images and descriptions of recent assassinations. She tries, with some intent, to let the puzzle pieces guide her to The Ghost. But Villanelle beckons in the back of her mind. The fact that Jess is in Amsterdam, during this, is horribly unfair</em>. <em>It should’ve been her.]</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>It’s like there are two separate earths</em>, Sandra thinks to herself, while acting as Eve, <em>one where I am, and one where Jodie is. And BBC is bound and determined to make it look as though there is only one</em>. (She scoffs at the bulletin board, as Eve would.) <em>We know the truth.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>While trying to muster a memory of Villanelle that Eve can look at, she imagines the first kitchen scene. However, the first kitchen scene leads Sandra to remember the second one—which she shouldn’t, because it hasn’t happened, yet, based on the timeline of the <em>Killing Eve</em> universe.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Without meaning to, she is brought to the suburban neighborhood, where she’d searched the pools of Jodie’s eyes for as far as she could swim. She wishes she could return to this moment. Although it seems like too much, and although she never allows herself to do these types of things, she would take Jodie’s hand. Why hadn’t she? She could have swept away the subtle teardrops with her thumb. What if she’d whispered softer things? Couples fight, but Sandra always wonders what words had caused the lively, sweet girl such inner turmoil.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She remembers the restaurant in Berlin. <em>“Only for your Eve,”</em> Jodie had said. Maybe if Sandra knew that they would hardly be together for the year to come, she would have sat closer to Jodie at the table. Maybe she would be the first to hear her funny stories, instead of always being the last.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She remembers the Golden Globes. She wishes that she stayed in Jodie’s room when she offered. She wonders if (tipsy) Jodie would have talked with her all night. Maybe she would have talked about acting or growing up in Liverpool, which would have been a much more fun way of staying up late, rather than the incessant doubt and coldness that riddled her in the darkness of her Hilton room.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She remembers the red carpet. Jodie said that she was meant to meet Sandra. She looked at Sandra with a heart-melting sense of warmth. That image was never forgotten. She leaned towards Sandra whenever Sandra captured one of her hands. It felt effortless to take her hand, even though millions of people would eventually see it. Sandra has remembered this every day since it happened; her hands always feel full and then too empty, all of a sudden. She wishes for another red carpet, if it means that these moments would repeat themselves.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But amidst these images of soft memories and ponderings—of all the reality and yearning and how they melted together in a murky, swirling pool that feels light in her chest—she is brought back to the way that Jodie’s voice twisted in her gut when she told Sandra to leave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She wants to pull a picture off of the bulletin board and rip it. (She won’t, though, because Eve isn’t angry. Eve isn’t hurt.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>This is the one time I could have really seen her,</em> Sandra ponders, sinking into a void that is too far removed from Eve. <em>Will I have to wait until next January for us to be in close proximity, like this? </em>She feels cold; her breathing becomes more shallow.<em> And she wanted me to leave early? She told me to go.</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Sandra realizes the disproportionate depth of her hurt, in comparison to what Jodie asked of her. It was a reasonable request, and Jodie’s tone, although jarring, wasn’t necessarily unkind. But everything hurts, anyway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>An image comes to her mind. How beautiful Jodie had been—how magnetic, how captivating—before she broke character. And she was just acting out <em>waking up</em>. Sandra can’t imagine watching the rest of it. She realizes how badly she wants to collaborate with Jodie. It’s painful for Sandra (and Eve) to be so far removed from Jodie (and Villanelle).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra rolls across the floor in her office chair, looking towards the window. She and Eve have several things to ponder (for starters, how unfair it is that both of them are longing, in this moment).</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>I think if Eve had Jodie in her world, rather than Villanelle . . . </em>Sandra bites down on the pen she’s holding, <em>she would just stay with Niko. </em>She feels a chill run through her entire body. <em>She would realize that she doesn’t have a chance in the goddamn world. A Russian assassin is easier to collide with. Jodie . . . she is on a different planet. She wouldn’t even meet Eve, and she will <strong>never</strong> collide with me</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p><a href="https://pbs.twimg.com/media/EhUrA8eXYAE6sK9?format=jpg&amp;name=medium">She didn't have a pen</a> in this scene, but I let her keep the pen so she has something to hold onto. 🥺😂</p>
<p><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z6v5-HY9Eew">Youtube link</a> to the song quoted (if you want). I love it soo much.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>You guys really felt the emotions of this fallout, yesterday. I'm sorry that this one didn't soothe you! I felt so emo when I wrote this conflict LMAO. We will get through this ✊🏼😔</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. There Are Windows, and Then There Are Doorways</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“It feels like, It feels like my fault</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>When I found you right by the dusk</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I don’t wanna keep playing these games with you, anymore.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>It feels like I’m sinking and I’m searching for the shore.”</em>
</p>
<p>--Jai Wolf, “Drowning”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The team has a strict deadline. Their flights for Rome are already booked, so it is imperative to work on the remaining details before leaving the UK to finish the season.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>During these days, the hurt is like a bruise that runs through all of Sandra’s muscles. Sandra feels like a hamster on a wheel; she wakes up each morning and counts the seconds before the pain settles back in her chest, and only then will she fetch her morning coffee. It’s easy to act as a part of “MI6”’s team, patching together the season with its missing pieces. The days pass in a flash. The only part that clashes with Sandra is how badly Eve wants to chase, compared to her. Sandra longs to forget; Eve won’t stop climbing towards her prize until a bullet will pierce her, in Rome (<em>and god, if only she knew</em>).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She doesn’t hold it against Jodie. Being asked to leave was acceptable, given the situation. It just felt symbolic. Shouldn’t she stop looking, stop pining from afar, like she is witnessing Jodie’s existence through a window? It doesn’t make sense, anymore. Sandra feels like she is back at the restaurant in Berlin, passing her fingertips over the tablecloth, observing Jodie like a masterpiece, yet never drawing near enough to her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Every moment that Jodie became 3D is catalogued in Sandra’s mind. The times that Jodie’s eyes seemed to light up just for her. The way she always gave hugs and kind words. Even the way that she picked up one of Sandra’s curls after the interview event, which seemed so tender—although any of these things could be considered a special brand of sweetness that is inherent to Jodie Comer. Like DNA, like something in her bones. These events weren’t necessarily laced with the type of affection that Sandra painted over her memories.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She regrets the way she slid into the <em>longing</em> and <em>yearning</em> of it all. She doesn’t even know when she crossed over the edge, since every tiny moment she has ever had with Jodie feels significant, now.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra sets down Eve’s handbag with a huff. She wants to gather her things from her “trailer” (which, thankfully, is a real office whenever they are in the UK) quickly so that she can rest before her morning flight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She trades the handbag for her real bag: a small backpack. She gathers her agenda, a notebook where she always scribbles things down for Eve’s development, and her water bottle, shoving them into the backpack.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She throws the bag over her shoulder and whips around towards the door, stopping when she sees Jodie in the doorway.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The surprise doesn’t sit well. She imagined that they would speak in Rome, based on the rate at which days had passed them by without a single interaction.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Hey,” Jodie says, and it’s soft. “I know you’re—“ she gestures towards the doorway, “I know it’s late. There hasn’t been any time, lately. But I really need to talk to you. Please, if it’s okay.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra hums. She starts to say something, but the words get caught in her throat. Finally, when she notices that Jodie keeps pulling at her fingers, unable to keep still, she takes a chair and brings it over by the couch. She sits down and gestures for Jodie to have the couch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What’s going on?” Sandra asks. She can’t help but smile a little, trying to convey safety and reassurance to her colleague.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’ve been trying so hard to see you, this week,” Jodie says. “Every time I’ve come to this door, you were filming. But I did try, I promise.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra feels like warmth is trying to escape the tight grip she has on her heart. “What did you want to talk about—” she says, almost ending the question with a term of endearment, but stopping herself in the process.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m sorry I told you to leave. I didn’t mean—I have no idea why it came out like that.” Jodie summons the memory in her mind, making her stumble over her words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra is frozen. She wants to hear everything. She feels pulled to reach across the space between them, or something, but it’s impossible.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was embarrassed when I broke character in front of everyone. It happened so quickly. <em>She</em> was missing Eve. She was broken without her.” Jodie lets out a heavy breath, bracing herself for the possibility of not being understood. “When Villanelle feels hurt to that degree, I go to a dark place to meet her.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra knows how all of this works. The two never talk about what it’s like to live with Eve and Villanelle, but Sandra knows what it’s like to find a resting place in Eve’s darkness. She nods to Jodie and feels something inside of her opening back up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie continues on. “I am actually shocked at how much it rattled me to see you standing there! Oh gosh, I thought I saw a ghost.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra laughs a little bit, and an unexpected tear falls from her eye, as the tension within her finds a slight release.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s the only reason I was so . . .—I didn’t mean to yell. I would never yell at you. I just felt like it was impossible to have you so close while <em>she</em> was missing Eve.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jodie, it’s okay.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie looks as though she wasn’t expecting to be forgiven so quickly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think I would have felt the exact same way, if I was shooting—if <em>Eve</em> was in that situation. I was only there because I think that I—” Sandra hesitates to say what she wants without giving everything away. “I wanted to witness your talent. I didn’t want to be five countries away from you, anymore. I’m so tired! I just want our scenes to be together <em>all the time</em>, I just want to be closer when we’re working.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra stops, just short of disclosing how much she wants to be in Jodie’s orbit.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Me too,” Jodie says, all too quickly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra is stunned by the certainty behind Jodie’s words.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I think about you a lot,” Jodie admits. “I wonder what you’re up to. I always pick up my phone like I’m about to call you, but then I look at the World Clock and, well . . .” she cuts through her own cheerfulness with a sigh. “I can’t stop thinking about the fact that we were together, this week, and I snapped at you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p><em>(It was mutual. All of it—all of </em>this <em>side of things.)</em></p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>“I’m so sorry, again, Sandra.” She looks like she could cry at any second. Her voice is shaking with it.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Before Sandra can think twice about it, she moves to the couch and embraces Jodie. It’s a full hug. She squeezes her arms around Jodie, only to find that Jodie is doing the same.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the midst of this, Jodie understands that Sandra isn’t upset. If anything, the twisted reality of being so far apart, all the time, weighs heavily on both of them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Each of them is able to smile again, during this hug, even though it is bittersweet. They envelope each other, half laughing, half wanting to cry because of the mutual frustration.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I miss you all the time,” Jodie says, almost with a laugh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I miss you, too,” Sandra responds, “all the time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie leans away from the hug, looking at Sandra’s face and keeping her hand on Sandra’s shoulder. “Are we better?” Jodie asks her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The way that Jodie is this close, sparkling with light, Sandra wants to bring her closer and tighter, again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She feels overwhelmed with conflict. She feels the urge to respond “yes” and forget the rest of what has been troubling her. However, the thought of carrying her yearning for another year is too much. She would rather have Jodie tell her about all the impossibilities of her longing, right now, than wait. She doesn’t know when they will be together, again, after Rome. Waiting would only add more moments of heartbreak to her collection.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jodie,” the name escapes her mouth more delicately than she ever meant it to, “can I talk to you about something, too?”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I can't get enough of this references to outer space. It just feels like there is truth within that.<br/>Yesterday, I learned that Jodie did not see Sandra for a while, after she won the Emmy. She hugged her in front of those cameras, and they texted, and that was it (<a href="https://twitter.com/JodieComerLover/status/1303294631745118211">x</a>).</p>
<p>Here's the Jai Wolf song that's quoted, if you want to vibe. <a href="https://soundcloud.com/jaiwolfmusic/track-9">Soundcloud</a> / <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l6T78DxMhTA">YouTube</a></p>
<p>Thank you for all of your lovely comments, and I know people have really been feeling the yearning/angst, but we will get through this. 😉🤍 Love you all!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. Confessions</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I will really miss you guys when this story ends :( I just wanted to say that.<br/>These are the best 23 days ever. Thank you so much for being here and coming back, and for every comment.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sandra puts the slightest bit of distance between herself and Jodie. Jodie picks up on this, taking her hand from Sandra’s shoulder and resting both of her hands in her lap.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Is everything okay?” Jodie says, because Sandra has been quiet for a long, drawn-out moment.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra lets out a breath. “I have to tell you something.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie gives her full attention.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s something that . . .—I don’t want to upset you, at all.” Sandra searches. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable <em>at all</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie nods. It’s reassuring.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I feel . . . For the longest time, I didn’t want to call it what it is. What it may be.” Sandra is scared, audibly breathy. “I have feelings for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>There is a pause as the words settle in the air.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You don’t have to respond—or, you can tell me anything you want to say. You can tell me that you would <em>never, ever</em> be with someone like me. For any reason. You can say anything, but please,” (she feels that this is the most important thing), “please don’t tell me that I’ve made you uncomfortable. That I am <em>unsafe</em> for you, now. Please say anything but that, if you have something you want to say.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie nods a few more times. For once, Sandra can’t read her; Jodie is listening, and that’s the only thing that is clear.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After a silence that feels too long, where both of them are staring down at their hands, Sandra speaks more.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I must be crazy. I always think, ‘Is it because Eve is technically within me?’ I wonder if it’s just her voice pushing through mine.” She hesitates. “I don’t know if that makes any sense at all.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why?” is all Jodie asks, but it’s inviting.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra isn’t sure what this means.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why me? Since when did . . .”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra feels that there is no point in being anything except honest.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t know when. Suddenly, it’s like there were a thousand moments where I thought about you. And it made me so happy. It made me feel calm,” Sandra smiles brightly, looking off to the side.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie isn’t stopping her, so she continues.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“As for why?” she lets out a deep breath. “Because you’re . . . everything. You are sweet, you are genuine, you are humble. You are full of this-” (she gestures with her hands) “light. You’re one of the best people I have ever met.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Just thinking about Jodie, even while sitting right next to her, warms Sandra from all of the pain she has been feeling over the past several days.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Unfortunately, she is brought back to the fact that she isn’t <em>asking</em> Jodie to be with her. She is only <em>disclosing</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know that you could never be with me. It’s impossible! God, it’s not even on the table. I think that I just wanted . . . I want to get this off of my chest, because then maybe it won’t be so painful.” She feels her chest tighten, as she tries to inhale. “I think about you all the time and I just don’t want it to be painful, like this, anymore. I want us to work well, together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie reaches diagonally and picks up one of Sandra’s hands, then begins drawing her thumb across Sandra’s fingers.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Since Jodie is comforting her, rather than running for the door, she feels safe enough to keep speaking.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I kind of want to know. I’m curious, do you think of me? Have you ever thought about me?—You don’t have to answer. You don’t have to say anything particular. God, please don’t be uncomfortable. I would never let you be uncomfortable because of <em>me</em>. I know I’m not . . . I’m just older!” Sandra is annoyed with herself and all the things she <em>is</em>. “I’m nothing like you, I don’t think I’m even on the same planet. I’m dorky and I’m awkward, sometimes. I always make it <em>seem</em> like I’m fine, but loving you has made me feel . . .”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Has loving me made you feel bad about yourself?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This question is tricky. “I never admit it to myself, but yeah, I think so. A little bit.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie never lets go of her hand or looks away, during this. She only listens with patience.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I don’t want you to say all of these bad things about yourself,” she starts. She searches to see if Sandra is lost in thought, or if she has the space to listen. “Why would I be upset that you like me? You’re <em>Sandra Oh</em>. I’m . . . honored.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra is shocked by this. After absorbing these statements, she says, “Did you ever think that we . . .” (she loses the words).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I thought about you a little bit. I mean, I thought about you sometimes, especially because of Villanelle,” she laughs at her mockery of the thirsty assassin who hogs her brain’s space.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra casts her eyes down with a jagged exhale, clearly disappointed. Her guard flares up and she is tempted to take her hand away from Jodie, as it might become cold within her grasp, if she is unwanted.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie feels this and shifts, putting her hand on top of Sandra’s, now, begging for patience. Begging to bear comfort.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sandra, I think . . .” she has difficulty speaking to Sandra when there is no eye contact. She knows that Sandra is merely trying to keep herself from breaking. She braces herself and bravely speaks, anyway. “I think I could think about you more. I think that would actually make me really happy.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra finally looks back up. Her eyes are glossy and she still feels incredibly scared, bordering on shaky, but she can listen to Jodie with intent.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Why do you think it would make you happy?” Sandra asks, and she’s as open as she can be.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Because I’ve always been safe with you, since the beginning.” Jodie’s answer comes so easily. “You have taken care of me since . . . forever. I’ve always had everything I needed because of you, because you’re so kind. There’s so many times I was scared. You were always there for me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra melts when she hears this. She didn’t realize how her protectiveness was perceived by Jodie. When looking back, she remembers all the times she was ready to catch her.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Jodie, You've Changed Everything</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>🎉 Announcement: the meaning of this fiction's title (and, subsequently, this chapter's title) is revealed in the end notes.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, I'm so thankful for you guys. I've been itching to show you these later chapters, although it's bittersweet, since we are nearing the end. </p><p>Enjoy &lt;3</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Because I’ve always been safe with you, since the beginning.” Jodie’s answer comes so easily. “You have taken care of me since . . . forever. I’ve always had everything I needed because of you, because you’re so kind. There’s so many times I was scared. You were always there for me.” </em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>Sandra melts when she hears this. She didn’t realize how her protectiveness was perceived by Jodie. When looking back, she remembers all the times she was ready to catch her.</em>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>“Jodie. That’s so sweet,” (it’s nearly a whisper, and almost sounds pained). “I’m always here for you.”</p><p> </p><p>The idea of being there for Jodie, if her love is rejected, hurts. But Sandra means what she says.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m here for you, too,” Jodie says with glossy eyes and a smile. She adjusts her grip over the top of Sandra’s hand.</p><p> </p><p>“I have a question,” Sandra says. “At the Golden Globes, do you remember how I kept grabbing your hand?” The memory causes Sandra to pet Jodie’s hand (the one that has been covering hers, this whole time). She only does it once, so as not to intrude.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes,” Jodie smiles, “of course.”</p><p> </p><p>“Why didn’t you stop me? I mean, did you . . . like it? Were you trying not to be rude? Why didn’t you push me away?”</p><p> </p><p>“I was protecting you and how you feel.” This answer comes too quickly, too matter-of-fact.</p><p> </p><p>Sandra feels like she may break.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Just to protect me. Not because she…wanted it. Or anything like that.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Sandra is crumbling too hard and too fast, so Jodie ducks her head down to regain Sandra’s eye contact, before it is lost forever.</p><p> </p><p>“Please trust me,” Jodie says, softly. “Hear me out.”</p><p> </p><p>Sandra nods because it’s the only strength she has left in her, tonight. Then, she inhales slowly, bracing herself.</p><p> </p><p>“If I let go of your hand on the red carpet, long enough to discuss it with you… ‘What does it mean?’ ‘What does this make us?’… everyone would notice. I saw your face. I knew you were in love with me—maybe you were only in love with me for that <em>day</em>, I don’t know! But you were relying on me, so I let you hold my hand, if that’s what makes you happy. It feels fine, to me; nice…” she smiles at the memory. “And then you don’t have to explain these things under pressure.”</p><p> </p><p>The depth of this answer is so unexpected. And kind. And thorough. It’s everything, like Jodie was so smart in the moment to come to this conclusion. Sandra realizes that she had been so considerate that it bordered on <em>loving</em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Jodie, that’s—” Sandra can’t even find the words. “Thank you so much for doing that for me.”</p><p> </p><p>“I like it when we hold hands and stuff. It’s sweet. I just never knew how much I should read into it. I thought I was overthinking it.”</p><p> </p><p>Sandra is speechless. What should she say? Where should she begin, if this conversation is starting to go <em>well</em>? She doesn’t want to ruin it.</p><p> </p><p>“So, is it okay if we keep doing things like that?” Sandra asks.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes . . . Wait—” something important comes to mind. “I have a question. When we did the kitchen scene—not the first one, but the recent one. You were touching my face and it felt like . . . sunbeams, kind of. I was looking directly at you while I delivered my lines. But it was so weird, it was like you weren’t really looking <em>at</em> me. All of a sudden, it’s like you shut me out and ignored me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh!” Sandra never thought this would come up. “I’m so sorry.” (She didn’t imagine that Jodie could even tell the difference.) “Jodie, I was thinking about you a lot, at that time. I felt like it would be wrong if I was too affectionate. By that point, I had already shut myself down completely. So yes, I wasn’t looking at you because I didn’t want to fall too far. But I guess if I <em>was</em> looking at you, I would have realized that you felt . . .”</p><p> </p><p><em>Rejected.</em> <em>Shunned.</em> <em>Forgotten. </em>Maybe.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie nods. This explanation soothes whatever worries she held. Her waterlines are pooling with tears because she must have thought about this more than Sandra cared to realize.</p><p> </p><p>“S-Sweetheart, I . . .” the phrase tumbles out of Sandra’s mouth before she could assess it, and before she could finish saying that she was sorry.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie seems to leap, quietly, at the tenderness. She smiles in spite of the pain she is releasing.</p><p> </p><p>Jodie takes Sandra’s hand (the one she’s been holding, this entire time) and lifts it to her face, exactly as it was in the kitchen scene. She is sure to hold Sandra’s eye contact, this time.</p><p> </p><p>This happened so fast. Sandra feels the warmth of Jodie’s face. She sees how wide Jodie’s grin is, how her eyes give away how content she is. The tears that were forming out of hurt turn to a melancholy type of happiness and start to stream down her face. Sandra wipes away the tears with her thumb. She is overwhelmed by the remarkable feeling of finally comforting this girl while she cries, but at the same time, it pierces her heart to watch her cry.</p><p> </p><p>Sandra brings their faces together as though she is going to kiss Jodie, but she stops upon realizing that she never asked if that would be okay. It’s like her fear is creeping back in, reminding her not to be too greedy. To be content if this is where everything stops and ends.</p><p> </p><p>“I’m sorry I made you feel like that, that day.”</p><p> </p><p>Jodie drinks in the apology with her eyes closed. She feels Sandra stop and hover. She closes the gap, kissing Sandra gently, and then smiles with the satisfaction she felt from it.</p><p> </p><p>Sandra smiles, too, having lost her breath when she was kissed. Warmth blooms in her chest. The kiss felt tranquil, to her. It was like sitting at the beach when soft waves are crashing. It was easy; effortless. There was no harsh jolt of electricity.</p><p> </p><p>With their foreheads still pressing together, Sandra runs her finger across Jodie’s hairline, pushing a piece of hair behind her ear, when she reaches the end.</p><p> </p><p>“Angel,” she whispers with more certainty (and just as much warmth).</p><p> </p><p>“Ohhh,” Jodie says sarcastically, “I don’t know if I’m an <em>angel</em>.”</p><p> </p><p>Jodie’s full personality is showing, and Sandra adores every part of it.</p><p> </p><p>“Trust me,” Sandra whispers in the softest tone, and kisses Jodie back. “You are one.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>🎉Reveal of the title's meaning! 🎉🎉🎉</p><p>The title "Jodie, You've Changed Everything" holds a double meaning. The unplanned meaning is that it's Jodie who tips the scale, as we saw in this chapter. </p><p>The overall [planned] meaning is from a song (because I can't get enough of song quotes, apparently).<br/>The song is called "Rosaline" by Lonely Benson. In this piece, the singer describes his feelings for Rosaline and how effortless and enchanting it is to be enamored with her. He repeats her name like a wish, practically.</p><p>Some lyrics to consider:<br/>"Isn't it fun to pretend that life is so serious?"<br/>"But I feel alright knowing you're alive; how do you do it?"<br/>"Yeah, I love you cause, cause you make me laugh, and that's what helps us get through it."<br/>and of course, "Rosaline, you've changed everything."</p><p>This is the song that I listen to when traffic makes me anxious. It instantly makes me feel calm. This work didn't have a name for a long while; I was excited when I realized how well this would work. (The feel of it makes me think of the Golden Globes chapter, too. 🥺)</p><p>I hope you guys will give this one a listen. &lt;3</p><p><a href="https://genius.com/Lonely-benson-rosaline-lyrics">Lyrics link</a> / <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NYakUB6FR9A">YouTube link</a> / <a href="https://soundcloud.com/lonelybenson/rosaline">SoundCloud</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0021"><h2>21. 'Round the World with You</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The early morning flight to Rome.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“I wanna be halfway round the world with you.”</em>
</p>
<p>--Jai Wolf, “Around the World”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra, Jodie, and Fiona are booked for the same first-class flight to Rome. The duration is only three hours, but everyone woke up at about 4:00am, intending to make the most of the daylight. This is especially inconvenient for Jodie and Sandra, since their conversation lasted way longer than the initially shy, apologetic Jodie had intended.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fiona is up-front with her “It’s Only Three Hours, But I’m Still Sleeping” approach. She and Jodie were supposed to be in F1 and F2, with Sandra up in B2. Thankfully, Fiona’s determination to close her eyes as <em>soon</em> as her carry-on was tucked behind her feet led her to offer Sandra a switch.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Little did Fiona know, she was avoiding a <em>very </em>envious, <em>very </em>angsty version of Sandra, who would never have stopped looking over her shoulder to catch a glimpse of [what we now call] her angel.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sometimes, things just work out for the best.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pair did not have time between 11:40pm and 5:20am to tell their colleagues about the new development. (This wasn’t love at first sight, this was love<em> overnight</em>.) (—Not like that! Get your head out of the gutter.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What do we do?” Jodie whispers in Sandra’s ear, as they both stare at Fiona, whose ticket is being scanned by the clerk. </p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Should we just pretend everything is normal?” Sandra asks while taking a bite of a granola bar.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Sure,” Jodie says. She looks at Sandra curiously, eyes narrowing towards her chin, for a moment, and then she swipes a crumb from her bottom lip. And god, she’s so tender that she can’t help but smile in the process.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>Right. Normal.</em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The trio boards their plane. Fiona, up ahead, flashes the most grateful smile as she mouths “Goodnight” to the two, even accompanied with a little wave.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s never like this. How is it feasible that the universe granted them three hours together after spinning them apart for the past two years? They could talk about anything. They could have everything.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra slowly reaches her hand towards Jodie’s, still fully staring at Fiona, who could already be out cold, by now. Jodie is quick to grab ahold and squeeze, letting out a breathy laugh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra feels a tug in her heart upon impact. The past night’s four hours of sleep (in their separate, usual living spaces, thank you very much) was incredibly too long to let go of each other.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Don’t worry about it,” Jodie says. “We’re fine.” She cups Sandra’s face with her free hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They sit for a few minutes while their plane prepares for takeoff. They listen to the white noise, look around at fellow passengers, observe the captain as he passes them, all while exchanging squeezes and pets during their hand-holding.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When it’s quiet and dark, Sandra recalls how it felt when Jodie touched her face, just a few minutes ago. She breaks the silence.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you remember the bed scene?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Of course.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What you did when—Eve,” this is all she can manage (she is sleep-deprived, after all), but she unconsciously reaches her hand towards her own face, when she recalls this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie fully comprehends this and leaps at the opportunity. She puts her fingers by Sandra’s hairline and draws them down against her hair and her jaw, just like she did on set.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did it feel nice when I did it, the first time? What did you feel?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra takes no time to answer.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thunder. Soft thunder.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie nods because somehow, somewhere deep, these words are the only words that describe it. After some moments in thought, just looking at each other with the realization, she does it again. Except, this time, she reaches the end and stares at the place she ended on. And then she’s quick to guide Sandra closer to her and kiss her, there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“When was the first time you liked me?” Jodie asks. “Last night, you said there were a million moments, or something. But I don’t understand, when was the first <em>time</em>?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It’s tricky,” Sandra says, but she is taking as much time as she needs to ponder. “Maybe Berlin? I couldn’t sleep that night.” She sits up straighter. “I felt so . . . <em>by myself</em> at dinner. I still remember how everyone was looking at you. You’re the center of the universe, and god, you should be. But then you stood up and you said—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“—There is only one Eve.” Jodie finishes, nodding.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You remember that you said that?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I said it because it’s the <em>truth</em>.” Her voice drops to a near-whisper. “It wasn’t offhanded. I always thought about that…a lot.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(This mention of ‘Eve’ reminds Sandra of something important. Villanelle and Eve are hungry for each other; desperate. They are wound up in deep yearning that is twisted into psychological need. In fact, the pinnacle of Rome would consist of yelling and possession. Sandra is reminded that this is nothing like that. Jodie is so soft that Sandra became soft for her. In every way, she hopes that Eve will be cherished like this, whenever she reaches her final destination.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra steals one more glance towards Fiona, who hasn’t budged from her sleeping position. Then she dives in, crashing her and Jodie’s lips together. It’s wholly passionate, but also gentle—it’s <em>thank you</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra can’t help but cry again, even though she thought every teardrop had been drained from her, last night.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I loved the Globes. You let me hold your hand, and I felt so goddamn good, standing next to you. You got drunk and you were so cute. You offered to let me stay in your room, and I wish I talked with you all of that night, but I was scared you wouldn’t like my . . . sleep mask.” Sandra chuckles with embarrassment at her logic. “We went to breakfast and I was <em>no </em>fun because I was mad at myself for loving you. Somehow, you knew that something was wrong. How is it that I still left that restaurant with a smile? You always do these little things: you fix my hair, you wiped some lipstick from my mouth. I don’t think anyone is as cute as you are. I don’t think anyone is as sweet. I feel so . . . cared for. I always felt so loved. And I love you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>This was a monologue that Jodie did not expect, but absorbed with a full heart. She starts to cry happy tears, again, and after wiping one with her hand, looks at her wet hand with surprise. It’s a wonder that either of these women still have tears left.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra reaches for her tear-stained face, because apparently, that sight will always move her. They both start to laugh, upon realizing that this will always be “their thing.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie pulls Sandra in for a hug—as much as their seats will allow. She rests her head on top of Sandra’s (who is a little bit shorter) and wraps both arms around her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I share so many of these memories with you,” Jodie says. “I knew I was right about that, at breakfast. I just feel bad that it was <em>me</em> who made you so withdrawn. I wish you hadn’t stressed out over your love for me. But I guess it was the path to get us here.” She turns her head so the sound will reach Sandra better. “I love you, too.” Then she hesitates, searching for just a few more words, “…What do I call you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra looks up to her eyes, still within the hug. “You can call me anything. Maybe the age thing doesn’t matter?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“My love . . ., Darling,” Jodie tries, smiling. (She will continue to ponder this.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>These words ring in Sandra’s ears, and then all the way down to her heart. She memorizes how each syllable sounded when it fell from Jodie’s mouth.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After staying in this hug for a few minutes, connecting with each other in the silence, Jodie releases her arms. Sandra thinks that the moment is over, but that is not Jodie’s plan. She reaches and tilts Sandra’s head back onto her shoulder. She spends some moments drawing her thumb across the side of Sandra’s face. They hold hands in the middle. They fall asleep like this. In each other’s quiet, listening to each other’s breathing, feeling each other’s love.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pair wakes up during the announcement that the flight will be landing. Their gaze shoots over to Fiona, whose eyes are still closed.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They watch her, looking for signs of life. And they squeeze each other’s hands, knowing that they will have to let go, soon, but neither of them wants to.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra especially doesn’t want to let go—she has waited such a long time for this. Their gift from the universe is ending. She shoots Jodie a hesitant look that conveys <em>please reach for me again, very soon,</em> and her voice gets caught.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know, it’s okay,” Jodie whispers, tilting Sandra’s head towards her and kissing her forehead. “I’m still right here.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fiona starts to sit up, so they quickly let go. Their hands feel empty, but their hearts feel overflowing. They look at each other for as long as they are able before looking down and pretending they have been two separate people (not one lovestruck couple) through the duration of the flight.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The plane lands and Fiona comes over to them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Good morning,” she says to them, “did you both sleep well?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra and Jodie nod to Fiona, then to each other, as if they didn’t know whether the other had fallen asleep.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Out of the corner of my eye, I could’ve sworn I saw you two curled up together, having a nap.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They both look down. At what point did Fiona wake up? Sandra grabs the reigns and looks up at Fiona, reaching her arm across Jodie, protectively. (Clearly, the gig is up.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra says, “We . . . um. Since just last night, we found that we both—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Fiona cuts her off. “You two are so <em>gorgeous</em> together. It’s really something. I think many of our colleagues have noticed—since the beginning—you have such strong chemistry.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie starts to laugh immediately. Why was this so easy? She hooks her arm through Sandra’s, as if to say, <em>we can relax, now</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So, I started writing a new fiction! I am not currently writing it in order, so it might be a little bit before I start posting. But that's exciting! It's Villaneve and let's just say...it's not as tender/soft like this one is. LOL. (It's a little, um, spicy...)</p>
<p>P.S. The Jai Wolf song is really good. I also took inspiration from his song "Moon Rider." There's something about the airplane/spaceship/retro feel that helped me write this chapter.</p>
<p>You guys, this is ending -really- fast, now. :'(</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. "staring at the sea without you next to me"</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The 2019 Emmys!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>These last two chapters were written one week ago. I had trouble getting into the right headspace, at the time, which is why I gave the chapter title of a San Holo instrumental piece. I closed my eyes and listened to that, and it helped me a lot. Just wanted to site my sources up front :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“When you’re away from me, </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>All I wanna be is close to you . . .</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>So please hear my voice when I’m callin’</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>And sending my message to you.</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Give me the night time,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>Yes, it’s the right time for loving you.”</em>
</p>
<p>--Lonely Benson, “Give Me the Night Time”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The Emmys feels so much <em>louder</em> than the Golden Globes. Everyone is handled separately—individuals. Unlike other red carpets (and especially unlike the Globes), celebrities do not take their pictures together. It’s you, your own space, your own seat, your own photos, and your own win (or loss).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra would never take for granted what it feels like to sit and watch the show, even when every actor and actress is buzzing with a special breed of nervousness that feels impossible to cope with. At least she is not taking on the stress of hosting, again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The moment that Sandra finds her seat, she searches. She glances towards the front, both of her sides, back around again—all the way in the nosebleeds?</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Up there,” her sister says, pointing a short distance backwards, to the left.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sally, Fiona, and Jodie find her, then. They wave dramatically and holler.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra grins and waves back at them. Warmed, but not fully relaxed, she exercises her patience. She wishes that she and her sister could sit with her colleagues, but remembers that it’s a wonder the others were placed together, given the aimlessness that can be expected of the Emmys’ seating chart.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She had seen Jodie. From a distance, a few times, today. The honey hue of her hair and the hazel of her eyes against the white and white and <em>white</em> of her dress. She was so soft, so perfect.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Seeing her from afar was much like Rome, and Sandra couldn’t help but daydream about it, lest the anticipation of the awards show swallow her whole:</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>There had been one moment, in particular, that was reminiscent of this. It was in the vicinity of the two Italian hotels, before they’d started working on the final scenes. Sandra and Jodie were separated, again. It was a particularly long day. They had stolen glances at each other, in passing, as whatever force brought them together was still ever-present. Sandra almost bumped into her—it brought a jolt and a bit of a gasp. Their eyes locked on each other’s for especially long, and then they parted ways, heading in the direction of what was next. (It was always fast, there was always pressure to make the most of the European locations, since things couldn’t be made up, later.) Sandra continued into the building while Jodie headed out of it, certain that the opportunity to exchange words or affection, or even jokes, was gone. Disappointed but not entirely surprised, she let it go. She promised “next time,” silently. She hoped Jodie was having fun, in spite of the fatigue from jetlag—and suddenly, long arms were pulling her backwards and turning her back around. And then, those arms were resting on her shoulders. And soft lips pressed to her forehead: once, twice, a few more times. “Sorry, I just miss you,” filled the air she breathed. She hardly had time to leave a soft kiss on Jodie’s jaw—a display of gratitude, where any words she could have said were suddenly lost to the surprise. And she closed their embrace tighter, before the moment was gone and they were jogging to catch up with their own, respective teams.</em>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>It is that type of warmth that settles over her chest, during the Emmys. The <em>I’m further away, but I’m still here with you</em> type.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She was doing her very best to maintain her patience, but it sinks in when she realizes that they will call the award category that she and Jodie shared, and neither of them would have each other to hold onto.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She also realizes that she would have loved to lean towards Jo’s ear and whisper, “You should get it, you deserve it,” (once or twice . . .), even though they’ve already had this discussion; Jodie has said those same words to her countless times, since the nominations were announced.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>But she and the ghost of Jodie—and the <em>real</em> Jodie, when their planets collide—would probably argue this to the death, insisting that the other should win.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She is mentally calculating how many feet apart their seats are, when things begin to shift. (<em>One-hundred ten, one-hundred thirty-five, two-hundred sixty</em>; she settles on two-hundred ten.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She glances over; <em>Fiona is too far away. Jodie doesn’t have anyone to calm her nerves, to free her palms of the </em>(she’s guessing) <em>sad, sweaty state they’re in.</em></p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s when she imagines holding onto the nervous version of Jo and hiding her away from the world—</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie won!</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Things happen fast and—oh, thank god, Fiona is bellowing “congratulations” and Sally is bringing her in for a hug, and this is Sandra’s favorite person, who looks <em>shocked and petrified</em>.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The dazzling vision of Jodie in white moves towards Sandra, arms already reaching towards her, when they’re still impossibly far apart. Glossy eyes already lock on hers, conveying “I’m scared” and “why is it me?” and “what will I say to this audience, now?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra pulls her into a hug and speaks “I love you” as loud as it needs to be, in order to be perceived above the rapturous applause.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie pauses, lost in space and time, laying her head on Sandra’s shoulder before finding the same three words and returning them to Sandra.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie’s too scared, and it’s too soon, and her family is halfway around the world. So Sandra steals a longer moment, putting her palm to Jodie’s face (<em>this is their thing, now—always</em>) and searches for connection in her eyes. There’s some buzzing, like Jodie has already floated away in the shock of it all, but presence returns to her pupils in time; Sandra is grounding her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>(Just like the Golden Globes, where holding Jodie’s hands was everything Sandra needed to survive hosting, connecting with Jodie like this would yield the type of calmness that Jodie needs to be immersed in, now.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The moment draws on, and Sandra waits until Jodie is fully present again before declaring, “You’ll be fine.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>And as Jo finally turns towards the stage, Sandra’s hand on her back speaks, “you were born for this moment, and you will not feel alone for a millisecond of the time that you spend on that stage.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>//</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After the awards show, Jodie is suspended, floating between several interviews with nearly identical questions. Many of the interviewers were warmed by her exchange with Sandra and sought clarity for what words passed between them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra makes easy work of killing time, staying with her sister and conversing with several colleagues, as well as other actors that she is loosely acquainted with.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>What she really wants is to share the celebration with Jo, but she’s not sure if she should expect that. Maybe Jodie would have other plans.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Another hour passes, and Sandra’s sister is tuckered out, so Sandra walks her towards the exit, where a car is awaiting her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra feels someone squeeze the shoulder of her pink dress. The sweetest voice fights to be heard over the crowd of attendees.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you leaving?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra spins and finds her way into Jodie’s arms, in an instant.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart,” Sandra says, resting her hand on the back of Jodie’s neck.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank you.” (And after a pause,) “I wish that I could share—I wish I could give a piece of it to—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“No, baby. This is yours. The whole thing belongs to you; it was meant for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie nods, words escaping her. She conveys her gratitude by brushing the back of her fingers across Sandra’s cheek.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra revels in this touch, after having sat apart from each other. Something passes between them, through eye contact alone, and they kiss.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Are you leaving—are you tired? Are you going home?” (Jodie can’t land on just one question, even though they all mean the same thing.)</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I’m just walking my sister out. Her ride is here.” Sandra smiles because she wants to know where the questions lead.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I found a party. It’s a small one. It’s secretive, and it’s extremely low-key. Will you go with me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Partying with Jo? This is a first. “Yes.” She grins.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Meet me back at this spot in fifteen minutes—and bring a swimsuit. I won’t make you swim, if you don’t want to, but just trust me.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie sweeps a small, wispy curl behind Sandra’s ear because she can’t <em>not</em> do that sort of thing, and then she lets go and disappears.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>☹️ Small rant:</p>
<p>Comments on this platform are so different from regular social media use. The good comments make me legitimately smile, and I even get teary-eyed, sometimes. But negative comments weigh so heavy; there were a couple nights I had trouble falling asleep. Basically, I'm trying to say that having people comment about your writing is really impactful, for better or worse. (It's so different from getting a "like" on Twitter, or something like that.)<br/>I wanted to take a moment to talk about this because I'm sure it's not just me--the overall message is please think about what you're saying to the writers on this website. Please be sensitive to what they're sharing with you; the piece could be laced with their own thoughts, or at the very least, it's like artwork that is very special to them.<br/>Most of my comments are soooo lovely and mean so much to me. There's no need to get into the details of the negative stuff, but yeah, please consider this a general PSA about Ao3 as a whole.</p>
<p>Thank you!! &lt;3</p>
<p> </p>
<p>I'll see you tomorrow for our last chapter :') Wow!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0023"><h2>23. Entangled</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>"Partying with Jo? That's a first!" 😂</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for all of the encouragement, yesterday. It meant a lot! I need to catch up on responding to your comments &lt;3 You are all so wonderful, and I am so thankful that you came back here, daily, to read this story.</p>
<p>Cheers to the best (truly the BEST) 23 days. 😭💘</p>
<p>I love you all, and I hope this ending is everything you would hope for.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“Closer and closer</em>
  <em><br/>To closing the distance<br/>You've made the arrangements<br/>I've handled my business<br/>I want to see you, now</em>
  <em>.”</em>
</p>
<p>--Lonely Benson, “Moonstone”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The house party is fairly small, as Jodie had promised. It is a reasonably-sized mansion with a big pool and a hot tub. There are humble fairy lights strewn around the yard, as well as LED’s that line the pool area and are suspended above it, making everything glow in swirling neon: blue, green, red, and a touch of light purple. The DJ plays EDM. Although there is plenty of space, only about 130 people are attending, making for lighthearted fun that feels intimate, as opposed to the types of house parties that could swallow a person whole (you know, the kind with proper trap music and drugs).</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is so perfect,” Sandra says. She is enamored with the blue hues of the lights. She wonders if Jodie knows how much she cares for visual spaces, like this.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“There was this gentleman who told me about this, and I thought it would be the perfect place to finally spend some time with my girlfriend.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra blushes at the term, as well as at the notion that they’d both been longing to be closer to each other, all night. She grabs Jodie’s hand and links their fingers together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you want to swim?” Jodie smiles with excitement.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I wasn’t sure, at first, but <em>here</em>? Hell, yeah.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The two float through the small crowd, nodding at people they pass. Everyone is extremely laidback; it’s the perfect environment to have a quality night with friends.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They lay their ‘outerwear’ clothes over some chairs and climb into the deep end of the pool. Both of them are mindful of keeping their hair dry as they lower themselves into the water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra takes in the visual impact of the neon reflections in the water. It’s breathtaking; everything about this is magical. She wishes to stay here forever.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They swim over to the depth level of the pool where they can comfortably stand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra can’t contain it—“Can I pick you up?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie chuckles and hooks her left arm around Sandra’s shoulder, jumping slightly so that Sandra can pick her up from under her knees.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie enjoys being carried sideways, like this, and Sandra appreciates how the water allows her to effortlessly pick Jo up.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Did I already tell you how proud I am of you?” Sandra asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You did, love, and then you told me I can’t share it with you.” Jodie leans into Sandra and smiles against her face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re trouble,” Sandra says, but the way she pulls Jodie’s body closer to hers, while she says this, is a sign of her own mischief.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They kiss for long moments. Even when they stop, Jodie makes her way to Sandra’s cheek and kisses her, there.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>When the moment settles, Sandra begins to carry Jodie to the other side of the pool.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie tenses, unaware, and tightens her hold around Sandra.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“You’re not trying to do that thing where you pick me up and throw me into the water, are you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra laughs. “Of course not! Plus, I have you in my arms, right here with me, <em>finally</em>. So, why would I throw you?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra meant to be witty, but it ended up just being sweet.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie laughs and relaxes in Sandra’s arms, again, graceful and trusting as she is being carried across the pool.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I was so fucking scared. I just wanted to hold your hand, in there. Why didn’t they just sit you and your sister by me?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra gasps because once again, their thoughts were shared.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“That’s all I was thinking about, baby. I knew you would be nervous, even though you didn’t show it. If we go to any other awards shows, I will make sure we are next to each other, so that I can be there for you.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They reach the other end of the pool, so Sandra releases the arm that’s holding Jodie’s legs and helps her stand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Should we sit in the hot tub?” Sandra asks her, and really it’s more like an invitation.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Yes.” Jodie’s eyes light up. She feels colder because she isn’t up against Sandra, anymore, and then—“I wish you could carry me over there, too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra laughs loudly; she wasn’t expecting that, at all. “Oh, I’ll work on it!”</p>
<p> </p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pair finds an empty corner of the hot tub. They are pleasantly surprised by the sensation of heat, after getting out of the pool and being left to freeze, in between.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Luckily (for Jodie), Sandra expects Jodie to assume the same position. She holds her arms out and Jodie lies sideways across her, again, gleaming with joy when they regain contact.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mm, I feel so safe here,” Jodie voices aloud.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I do, too.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>After reveling in the moment, Jodie opens up. “Sandra, . . . I haven’t seen you in a while.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“But I’m right here!” Sandra tries with a smile, but then lets out a heavy exhale because she knows what Jodie means. “I know,” she admits.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Not since Rome, for those few moments. Not since the plane.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I know, love. Trust me when I say it’s mutual. I miss you <em>all </em>the time.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie just stares at her for a long time. Maybe she is trying to memorize Sandra’s face, in case they are torn apart, again.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We need to fight for our time,” Sandra says. “If we’re going to be in Europe, together, we should at least be given an hour to have dinner together, just us,” (she hesitates) “—if that’s what you want.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie nods intently. “That’s exactly what I want.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Everyone knows they’re together, since Rome.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“We can share hotel rooms, when we are filming in the same locations.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mhm,” Jodie agrees. “What about the times when” (she’s gesturing with her hands) “I’m in the UK and you’re in California, or—”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“—I know,” Sandra sighs. “I know how much the distance hurts; it hurts me, too. You can always call me. Or video call me. The time difference doesn’t matter; we will find a way and plan it. I don’t care if it’s 3:00am, for me.” She searches for the perfect words. “I may not be there, but I am <em>always </em>with you, my love.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie kisses her quickly and then shifts out of her lap. “I’ll be right back,” she says, hurrying out of the hot tub.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie grabs something from the pocket of her clothes, over on the chair, and then comes back.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Do you remember this?” she asks, sitting down on the edge of the concrete. She holds up a ring for Sandra to look at.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra shakes her head.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This is Villanelle’s. I chose it, myself. When I—when <em>she</em>—writes the postcard to Eve, I was wearing this ring.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie pulls the ring apart; it turns out to be two rings that connect together.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“This one says ‘Yours’,” she gestures for Sandra to give her hand over, then slides the silver ring onto Sandra’s ring finger. “This one says ‘Mine’. Together, they say ‘I &lt;3 You,’ as you saw.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie drops the gold ring into Sandra’s hand. She holds her hand out for Sandra, hoping she knows what to do.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra slides the gold “Mine” ring over Jodie’s ring finger. Sandra is so awestruck by the gesture that she runs her fingers over Jodie’s ring, then holds her hand next to Jodie’s so she can see both of them wearing their rings.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“I hope Villanelle doesn’t mind if we borrow them,” Jodie laughs. “She wanted to declare her love to Eve, but <em>as we saw</em>,” (they both laugh), “it’ll be a long time before she has the chance.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie climbs back into the hot tub, grateful to warm back up. She notices that Sandra is staring at her new ring, being careful not to immerse it in the chlorine water.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“It won’t rust or anything, so don’t worry,” Jodie says. She climbs back into Sandra’s lap.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Thank—you brought these with you, tonight?” Sandra asks with shock on her face, eyes glossing over, subtly.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Mm,” she agrees as an outline of a ‘yes,’ kissing Sandra because her face conveys so much emotionality. “I didn’t know if either of us would win the award, tonight, but I knew that I would find somewhere for us to be together.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Jode, this is perfect.” Sandra looks at her ring while only moving slightly, so she doesn’t disturb her grasp on Jodie. “This party is perfect, this ring is so perfect, and I will keep it with me, always . . . I will always think of you, whenever I look at it. <em>You</em> are so perfect. Spending this night with you is everything I could dream of.” She tugs Jodie closer to her, again. “Holding you like this, having you in my arms is perfect.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They kiss each other, touching each other’s faces and feeling the softness of each other’s hair, and after some time, Jodie rests her head on Sandra’s shoulder, her forehead against the side of Sandra’s face.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie is slow and soft to speak again, when she finally interrupts the silence. “Well, you have me, for right now. And I have you, for right now. What do we do? What do we talk about?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Sandra steals a few kisses to her forehead and jawline.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Anything you want,” she says, but then “—but I want to know more about you, I think.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“What about me?” Jodie asks, confused . . . as though she and Sandra didn’t already know everything that was needed based on their eye contact, alone.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Will you tell me about growing up in Liverpool? Or maybe what your other jobs were like . . . <em>My Mad Fat Diary </em>or <em>The White Princess</em>?”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie chuckles. In Villanelle’s Russian accent, she says, “I will tell you <em>everything</em> you need to know,” (she hesitates, but then decides to say it, after all,) “<em>Eve P-lastri</em>.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>They share a laugh.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>“Afterwards, will you tell me about <em>Grey’s</em>?” Jodie asks.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Disappointed, suddenly, that Eve doesn’t have a fun accent, Sandra responds in French. “Je vais tout vous dire, ma chérie.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Jodie melts when the French term of endearment reaches her.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The pair spend the rest of the evening like this, all the way till the late hours. Sandra never tires of holding Jodie while she hears all about her experiences on other sets, or how simple and freeing it feels for her to return to her hometown and enjoy a quiet life. Sandra tells Jodie how interesting it is to work on a medical show, but emphasizes that she would much rather play Eve, now, and be spun into Jodie’s orbit, otherwise they wouldn’t be sharing the warmth of the hot tub. In every way, Sandra is glad that this is her new reality.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She loses herself in Jodie’s eyes, transfixed on the purples and reds that are reflecting off of them. While she listens to Jodie talk about every friend, every hometown moment, and every costar, she reflects. She remembers Berlin. She fondly pictures the Golden Globes, and the fluttery feeling she had in her chest, that day. She remembers falling asleep on the plane to Rome, where hers and Jodie’s breathing synchronized as one rhythm.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>She knows that no matter how long they are apart, no matter how many miles or how many hours separate them, they will come back together and live like this—entangled. They thrive together off of something intangible; somehow, they always feel similar things and understand each other without words. In every way, they are meant to be together. So, from now on, they can always trust that they are safe in each other’s love; what looks like two, separate portraits is one, shared, loving existence.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Another shoutout to Behindthec. I couldn't get her blurb about a hot tub out of my head (from chapter 1 of her story), and although hers is a little ~spicy~, I asked for permission to recreate it because something about the intimacy and the fun made me feel like this was the place I wanted them to have an ending.</p>
<p>I hope it was a satisfying ending for you all. I had a dream about it, overnight, before I wrote it. (That part about "Are you going to throw me in the water?" was straight from the dream, LOL). </p>
<p>I know some of you hinted at wanting NSFW in the comments. I need to reiterate: I'm sorry, I just can't! They're real people, so all we end up with is this very soft swimming moment, instead. </p>
<p>Of course, chapter title is taken from Lonely Benson's "Entangled." I'm weak for how sappy he is, and his retro vibes make me think of Sandra 🥺🥺 </p>
<p>I really do love these two ladies IRL and I wish them the most happiness, and I hope my fictional versions of them turned out alright, even though they could never compare to the complexity and talent and beauty of the real people.</p>
<p>I'll stop ranting and post my little epilogue. ---&gt;</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0024"><h2>24. Epilogue: About Jodie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Just some thoughts on this [imaginary] Jodie.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Epilogue: Notes on [this imaginary version of] Jodie</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A few people have asked me for chapters that exhibit Jodie’s perspective, throughout the story. I was thrilled to get these requests because among other things, it shows that the readers of my fiction are invested in her, from afar, just as [imaginary] Sandra is. It means you all want to view her closer and know what she thinks.</p>
<p>That’s right on the mark; however (this may come as a surprise), I feel the same way.</p>
<p>This is a bit complex, but I want to share it with you. The truth is that Jodie, as she shows up in this story, is also a mystery to me. That’s been the case from the beginning. While Sandra was mostly a projection of myself, the way that Jodie interacts in her world, as a counterpart, flowed through me without preempt.</p>
<p>The greatest example I can give is that I did not know Jodie was upset about the 2<sup>nd</sup> kitchen scene (where Sandra isn’t looking into her eyes) until she said it. That scene was only meant to show how much Sandra was resisting and holding back. She brought that up; I did not push the idea onto her. The way she conveyed that her feelings were hurt ended up being so useful; it was the thing that finally threw the pair over the line and made them romantic (which, I probably don’t need to remind you that it took 20 chapters to break through that barrier).</p>
<p>(I guess I should also note that the entire 3-chapter sequence of dialogue flowed through me in one sitting. Once it was on paper, I hardly touched it. It was magical for me to watch everything play out.)</p>
<p>What I do know about [this] Jodie is that her affection towards Sandra was so natural that she transitioned to the romantic type of affection with ease. It’s clear to me that she would’ve kept reaching for Sandra without a second thought, but she could effortlessly give more, once Sandra presented the invitation.</p>
<p>It’s interesting . . . I thought that Sandra would be the one initiating most of the romantic moments, since she was the one who chased and waited and hoped. But when they were finally together, it was Jodie who showed a lot of agency in the dynamic, as well as total freedom with her affection. (I think this is evident in the airplane chapter, as well as how she made post-Emmys plans and brought the rings with her.)</p>
<p>Anyway, I hope you can understand why there are no chapters from Jodie’s perspective. By the time the story ends, you may feel it isn’t necessary, anyway, since she clarified a lot of things via dialogue. She definitely still holds some secrets (how did she feel during the conflict? What was her first impression of Sandra?), but I think some of the shroud of mystery began to fade when they finally became a couple.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>-</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Thank you all for reading this story. Your comments have been the highlight of these past 23 days. I felt so connected to you all, during a time when the world is fragmented. It means so much to me that you kept coming back for the next chapter. Hopefully I will see you again, soon, even if the stories I write next are totally different from this.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Yep, the fact that this is over is starting to hit me!</p>
<p>Please feel free to connect with me on twitter (killingg_eve) and tumblr (killingg-eve), if you'd like, because otherwise I will miss you dearly.</p>
<p>If it's even possible to say "thank you" one more time,... THANK YOU! 💜💜💜💜</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>